


The Next Great Adventure

by AngryPurpleHead, CCBug



Category: Dragon Age, Mass Effect
Genre: AU Crossover, Cultural Differences, Discovery, Dissension, Dreams, Grey Wardens, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mild/moderate expletives, Multi, Mystery, Past meets future, Prothean Beacon, Romance, SR-1, SR-2, Some deviations from canon, The Blight, Vision - Freeform, canonical character deaths, comradeship, friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryPurpleHead/pseuds/AngryPurpleHead, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCBug/pseuds/CCBug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mysterious woman from Shepard's vision appears on the Silversun Strip, the finest minds aboard the SR-2 work to uncover her origins. However, the crew soon discovers that science doesn't always hold the answers.  How did Abby Cousland give up her life to save Ferelden only to awaken on the Citadel? And, more importantly, why?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> We've taken some liberties with canon, here, and some events that occurred in-game will happen at different times or not at all. 
> 
> Some knowledge of Dragon Age: Origins will be helpful when reading this, but is not essential as most of the story (with the exception of chapter one) takes place in the ME universe.

**The Normandy, 2183**

The first time he 'saw' her was just after Eden Prime.

Strange, disjointed images invaded his thoughts, offering tantalising glimpses which faded to nothing just before they took shape. Were they in his thoughts, though? Or could he actually see them?

"Hey! Look!" he heard a far-off female voice cry. "He's coming round!"

One hand grabbed his shoulder, another clasped his own hand, which flailed wildly through the air. "It's okay, Commander," said a softer, male voice. "Just take it easy."

His eyes opened, and it took him a minute to register the three people who surrounded his bed. To his left was Kaidan, who was gently but firmly holding his shoulder down, and to his right was Ashley, who clutched his hand. At the foot of his bed stood Dr. Chakwas, wearing a perma-raised eyebrow, her face a study in professionalism and calm.

"Where is she?" Shepard blurted out, Kaidan's strong hand preventing him from sitting up. Shepard covered his eyes with his forearm and muttered under his breath while Chakwas and Ashley exchanged a glance.

"We're... right here, Commander," replied Williams, waving her hand in front of Shepard's face as he uncovered it and struggled to focus on her.

"No… the-the woman… where is she?" Shepard asked again, and propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes darting around the med bay.

Chakwas moved to the head of the bed – Kaidan stepping aside to allow her room – and looked down at Shepard before entering something on her datapad. "You were out for fifteen hours, Commander," she stated coolly, although her brow was wrinkled in concern. "What do you remember?"

Shepard stared blankly at the far wall for a minute, his eyes narrowing slightly as he struggled to make sense of the maelstrom swirling around in his head. And then his eyes widened, his breath rushing out of his lungs.

"I saw her again! She's here, in my head! Where…" He swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand but was body-blocked by Williams.

"Commander, you need to _lie down_ ," she said forcefully, hands on her hips.

Shepard sighed, feeling woozy and disorientated. He was in no shape to argue with the feisty woman and glanced at Chakwas, who touched Williams's arm, causing her to step back.

"What did you see?" prompted the doctor.

"I saw… I can't make sense of any of it. Machines… flesh… blood."

"Sounds like a nightmare," Kaidan commented, shaking his head.

"What about the woman? Who was she?" Ashley questioned just as Captain Anderson entered.

"It's the only thing that's clear," Shepard mumbled. "I kept seeing a woman with blonde hair and really vivid blue eyes. Pretty."

Anderson moved to the bedside, Ashley and Kaidan straightening up and saluting. Shepard attempted the same, but was stopped by Anderson's outstretched hand.

"How's he holding up?" the captain asked Chakwas, who passed her datapad to him for inspection. He took a minute to read it before nodding. "Hm. Well, glad to see you're on your feet, Shepard," he said to his XO before looking at Kaidan and Ashley. "Dismissed."

They gave another salute before Williams turned back to Shepard. "You know where we are if you need us," she said, and Kaidan shook Shepard's hand before leaving with Chakwas, who promised to return after the men's debriefing.

**9:30 Dragon  
** **Outside of Lothering**

The first time she 'saw' him was just after her Joining. Ostagar had been lost and she and Alistair had barely escaped with their lives.

She'd slept in fitful spells, each short period of peace infected with the 'song' of the Archdemon. The visions of darkspawn monstrosity swallowed her whole, the heat of their lair, the smell of their foul forms permeating every moment until she heard an unfamiliar voice off in the distance.

It was then that the dream changed.

She wasn't sure of the purpose of the words he spoke. His language she knew, but his accent was one she'd never heard before. He didn't approach, just lingered at the edge of her dream, his outline clear, his dress foreign.

"Now! Go now!" he commanded, his blue eyes alight with certainty. She woke then, his voice still clear in her mind, her heart thundering in her chest.

"Bad dreams?" Alistair had asked her and it was then that he told her of her new connection to the darkspawn and the Archdemon.

She'd quietly accepted what he'd shared with her, but the images she'd seen plagued her, and finally, days later, she'd asked her fellow warden about the details of her dream.

Alistair had confirmed that much of the dream was shared, their individual visions apparently not so individual after all: the only deviation from their mutual vision was the man she'd seen at its close.

"No, there's no man in the dream, Abby," he'd answered, shaking his head. "Horrifying dragon that seems to be looking directly at you? Check. Stinking, putrid horde all excited about killing us? Check. But strange man in odd clothing… nope, no check. I haven't seen him."

"Is it possible that not everything would be the same?" she'd asked, her uncertainty at her understanding of what she'd seen increasing with each shake of his head. "Perhaps our dreams vary?"

Alistair had simply shrugged. "To be honest, Abby, you know about as much as I do. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Eventually, when she'd grown accustomed to the nightmares, she'd learned to ignore the horror they struck into her heart. It would be months before she saw the man again, but when she did, she couldn't ignore the courage his words gave her.

**Knossos System, 2183**

The second time he saw her was after Liara had been rescued from the prothean ruins on Therum, and the newly-appointed Spectre Shepard had succeeded Anderson as CO of the Normandy.

This time, he regained consciousness more easily, and felt a gentle presence guide him back to the waking world. His eyes opened to find warm blue hands resting against his cheeks, and searching blue eyes gazing into his own.

"Shepard," Liara breathed, still cradling his face with her hands, "how was it?"

He blinked and glanced around, slowly remembering that he and Liara were standing in the conference room, his senior staff seated around them. "I saw the woman again!" he declared excitedly before Liara swayed, and he grabbed her by the arms.

"What did you do to him?" Ashley demanded of Liara, who Shepard was guiding to a chair.

"She helped me," Shepard defended with a stern look at Ashley as he took a seat next to the asari scientist. "I saw more of the blonde woman. She was standing right next to me. She's almost as tall as I am. Her clothing… it was so strange. Like a short dress, but there were… buckles, straps. Made of some kind of animal skin, I think. It's like she's from a different time. Maybe a long time."

"I wonder who she is?" Kaidan asked curiously. "And why do you keep seeing her?"

"I also saw her," Liara provided. "She was not a prothean, but human. She was quite beautiful."

"Glad there are still _some_ humans around here," Williams commented sourly, and Shepard glared at her before Liara clutched her head.

"You should lie down," Shepard advised her. "Go see Dr. Chakwas. She'll check you over."

"Yes… all right," Liara mumbled, rising with a little assistance from Shepard.

"The rest of you are dismissed," Shepard ordered and waited as the senior crew filed out. "Williams," he said just before Ashley reached the door, and he didn't speak again until the room was clear. "Would you care to explain your comments just now?"

She raised her chin defiantly, meeting Shepard's hard stare. "Sir, I don't approve of aliens who we've only just met performing mind tricks on you. Who knows what she's put into your head?"

Exasperated, he paced a little before facing her and folding his arms. "Is that all?"

"Sir?"

"Is it really because she's an 'alien'," he said with emphasis, making air quotations with his fingers, "or because she's a woman? Or, more accurately, because her species _look_ like women? Just what is your problem?"

Ashley stiffened, her eyes glinting. "You've already made it clear that you're not interested in me."

"So it's the 'alien' thing, then?"

"I believe T'Soni's trying to manipulate you," she accused. "All the gentle touches, the dizzy spells… and she did something to your mind. She said she'd be able to help you make sense of your visions, but even she – an expert on the protheans – couldn't make sense of it. What was the point of it all?"

"Yes, she _did_ do something – she made the vision more vivid. Now I can see more of the woman's features. She has long eyelashes and a few freckles on her nose. I almost feel like I know her, but I can't place her."

"Excuse me, Commander, but listen to yourself," she retorted. "You're describing yourself – _you_ have blond hair, blue eyes and freckles on your nose." She stepped closer to Shepard, her arms folded. "This so-called vision was implanted in your mind by an alien device, and it was amplified by _another_ alien, one who seems to be soft on you."

"There is nothing 'so-called' about my vision, Gunnery Chief!"

"Yeah, and there's nothing 'so-called' about the way Liara looks at you, either. _Sir."_

Shepard stared at her in disbelief for a moment before scrubbing his face with his hands. "All right. For the record, I am not attracted to women, period. You need to stop taking this so personally, Williams."

Ashley's face fell and she appeared to pale a little. "Oh. I see." She swallowed and straightened up. "Sorry, Commander. I thought-"

"You thought wrong," he replied and paused for a beat, keeping his voice steady. "This needs to stop. And I don't want to hear any more about how the 'aliens' are trying to control us. Liara is an ally, as are Garrus and Wrex. And give me a little credit for having a mind of my own."

"Yes, sir," she replied with admirable steadiness and dignity, snapping a salute. "I'm sorry."

He watched her for a moment, and realised that part of him understood her fears and sympathised with her, now that he'd effectively crushed her hopes of a romance between them. "You're a damn good soldier, Williams, as well as a friend. I hope this isn't going to affect that."

She gave a single nod and turned on her heel, heading for the door. Before leaving, however, she looked over her shoulder. "Just so you know, Commander, if you have any designs on LT-"

"Kaidan's not my type," he interrupted, "and I'm sure as hell not his."

"Good answer," she replied tartly, and a faint smile passed between them before she sailed through the doorway.

**9:30 Dragon  
** **Outside of Denerim**

She saw him for a second time just before the Landsmeet, but his appearance at the vision's close was almost forgotten.

The wardens again shared the dream of the Archdemon, but this time it was much more vivid and deadly in its message, and the man's call was nearly lost in the panic the scenes brought her.

Abby and Alistair awoke to a fierce fight, shrieks attacking the haven of their camp and it wasn't until long after that she could reflect on what had transpired.

Alistair was nervous, the knowledge that the Archdemon had actively sought them out rattling him, but for Abby, it had demonstrated something else altogether. It was no longer the sheer numbers of the darkspawn that made her blood run cold, but the Archdemon's choice to attack their camp. It proved it was thinking tactically and that made the entirety of the event all the more horrendous. And yet...

This time, the strange man's call, "Now! Go now!" had been heard at a crucial moment. Had he not cried out to her, had she not seen the red stripe on his uniform, the odd number on his chest, would she have awoken before being sliced in two by the shriek that stood over her?

Again Alistair didn't know of the man she spoke of, again and again he discounted the value of the mysterious person's role in her dream, but she could not. Everything within her knew he was more than a straggling idea and she understood that he'd saved her life.

The question that plagued her stopped being _who_ and grew into _why_. And, weeks later as she drove the shard of what remained of her father's sword into the Archdemon's body, as the light and heat of its death tore through her, she heard the mysterious man again.

" _Now! Go now!"_

And then she heard nothing more. Not for a very long time.

**The Normandy, 2183**

The third time he saw her was at Saren's base on Virmire just before encountering Sovereign for the first time. As he was accompanied by Liara and Williams, however, he kept it quiet.

Upon his return to the Normandy, he and the rest of the crew were too devastated by Ashley's subsequent death to discuss the mission in anything more than a perfunctory manner. After sending his report to the Fifth Fleet and deciding, on this occasion, not to inform the unsupportive Council, he checked in on Kaidan before retiring to his office on the Crew Deck.

A few hours later, Kaidan visited Shepard, finding the commander with his omni-tool activated, a large screen suspended in mid-air above his desk.

"Is that the woman?" Kaidan asked, looking up at the screen as he sat down.

"Best I can get her," Shepard answered. "I've been trying to draw her while the memory's fresh. Way to take my mind off things, I guess," he added with a half-hearted shrug. "Shame I can't draw."

"Does it _look_ like her, though?" queried Kaidan, glad for the distraction.

Shepard looked up at the screen, committing his drawing of her face to memory before closing his eyes and sighing. "Kinda. But something's not right. I don't know what. It's really bugging me."

He opened his eyes and took a second look, realising that he hadn't quite got her eyes right. He re-opened the image creator program on his omni-tool and tinkered with his creation, grunting in annoyance when his efforts proved unsuccessful. "It's her eyes. I can't get them to look like the picture I have in my head."

Kaidan tilted his head and studied the drawing for a while. "You know... she kinda looks like you. Similar lips, and the nose is almost an exact match. She has the same colouring as you, too."

"Huh," Shepard mumbled. "Ash said something like that. Maybe my memory isn't as reliable as I'd thought."

"Well, maybe you should ask Liara? She saw the woman as well. Maybe she could help out?"

"That's a good idea, Lieutenant," Shepard replied, but made no move to stand up, and both men stared into space for several minutes before Shepard broke the silence. "I shouldn't be doing this. I'm still waiting to hear from Ash's family. Alliance Command's informed them, but I wanted to speak to them too. Just wish I knew what the hell to say."

"Tell them the truth," advised Kaidan. "She died a hero."

Shepard stared down at his boots. "She died because…" He shook his head, and Kaidan leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together.

"You spent more than an hour with me this afternoon convincing me that it wasn't my fault. Well, it wasn't yours, either, sir. You _had_ to make a decision, and fast. If I'd been down on the ground, you would have made the same decision, because it was the one that saved the most lives, and you'd be having this conversation with Ash. You're our commander because you _can_ make the hard decisions – you didn't hesitate, even though it's tearing you up right now. You did the right thing, Shepard," he said with conviction, though his voice faltered. "Ash agreed."

Shepard stared up at the screen, and the reproduction of the mysterious blonde woman. "I'm insulting Ash's memory by _playing_ with this thing," he said, irritated with himself. "Come on," he invited Kaidan before standing up. "We've got a memorial service to arrange."

The image of the blonde woman fizzled out as Shepard deactivated the screen, and he forgot about her for a very long time.

**After the Killing Blow**

Nothing made sense to her.  Everything was bright and moving, and she felt like she was swimming in the chaos around her, maybe even drowning. Her eyes couldn't keep up with the commotion, her focus lost.

The pain was extraordinary and completely unexpected. She'd done what Riordan had commanded: she'd turned down Morrigan's offer and had sunk her blade into the beast, so why wasn't she dead?

She felt people around her, touching her, speaking to her and over her, but as her vision fixed on what surrounded her, she was overwhelmed with fear. Lights flashed and music thundered near her, and the structures that seemed to touch the very sky had pictures moving across them.

Was this the Golden City?

A stabbing pain shot through her and she closed her eyes against it, the intensity making her cry out. The people around her, many of whom looked like nothing she'd ever seen before, drew closer and she sensed their concern.

And then, she saw him for the third time.

Kneeling close, his features finally clear, she saw his kind blue eyes and heard his words, and tried to hold onto him, to latch on before he slipped away and she was left alone in the noise and the lights.

She felt a touch and then, he was gone.

**The Citadel, Present Day**

"Well, Joker. I guess that's answered _that_ question."

"Bite me, Cortez."

The flight lieutenants deactivated their tech armor and stepped out of the Armax Arena onto the Silversun plaza, one of them looking very pleased with himself, the other less so. Behind them – trying but failing to maintain their stern demeanours – were the commander of the Normandy and his sometimes-XO, Major Alenko.

"Didn't know you were into that kind of thing," purred Steve with a wink at the affronted Joker, who held his hands up and limped ahead.

"Children," Kaidan remonstrated good-naturedly. "So you had a bet, and one of you lost. Why don't we all be mature adults about this?"

"Yeah, why don't we?" Shepard interjected with a pointed look at Cortez. "Wouldn't want to give anyone the wrong idea, would we?"

Cortez dropped back a little and sidled closer to Shepard. "I was just trying to soften the blow of his humiliating defeat. You know I only have eyes for one man," he finished on a whisper.

Shepard cleared his throat, firmly suppressed a grin and walked after Joker, leaving a beaming Cortez to catch up with Kaidan. "Hey, Joker!" called the commander. "Wanna grab some noodles?"

"Only if _he_ quits rubbing my nose in it," Joker griped, nodding towards Steve. "So you won. Whoop-de-fucking-doo."

"Hey, I'm magnanimous in victory," declared Cortez, holding his arms wide open. "How about a hug, show there are no hard feelings?"

"Yeah, it's _hard feelings_ I'm afraid of. I'll pass on the hug, thanks." Joker moved to Shepard's side and pointed at Cortez. "You can sit opposite me. And _no_ footsies."

"Hey, what's that? Guys, take a look over there," Kaidan said, turning to look at a small commotion further down the Strip. Quickly, Shepard moved to his side and they watched as the small contingent of C-Sec officers attempted to hold back the growing crowd.

"Come on, Spectre Alenko," said Shepard, and both men, who were still fully-armored, made their way towards the clamour, pushing past the spectators.

"What's going on here?" Shepard demanded, his eyes widening when he looked down at the ground.

"I don't know, Commander," answered a baffled C-Sec officer. "She just… appeared."

"Jesus, give her some air!" Kaidan commanded, and the people in the crowd stepped back but did not depart. He crouched down next to Shepard, who was examining the bloodied, battered body of a barely-conscious human female wearing a very odd ensemble of clothing. "How bad is she?" Kaidan asked as Shepard scanned her with his omni-tool.

"Bad," Shepard said gruffly, administering medi-gel, and he indicated that Kaidan should do the same. Shepard looked up at the crowd and pointed to the far end of the Strip. "He _said_ give her some air! Get outta here!" he ordered, and the spectators, wisely deciding not to disobey him, slowly started to leave, any stragglers moved along by C-Sec.

"What the hell?" asked Joker, who had been held back by the departing spectators, and Steve squatted next to the two Spectres.

"Shhh, she's gotta be terrified," Cortez said, watching her with concern. Her eyes met his. "Ma'am? It's okay, you're safe."

Her gaze darted away and she stared straight up, her vivid blue eyes unblinking, and Shepard felt his stomach flip as he recognized them.

"What's she looking at?" Joker asked, also glancing up at the sky cars which hummed overhead, and the dazzling neon displays along the Strip.

"Steve's right, she's terrified," Shepard deduced from her rapid breathing and stiffened posture. He tapped his omni-tool and frowned at the readout. "Shit, her heart rate's sky high. We need more than medi-gel, we need Chakwas! Steve?"

Cortez leapt to his feet and nodded.

"Now! Go now!" Shepard ordered as he watched her heart rate spike on his screen, and Cortez raced off. "Kaidan, can you–"

"I got it." Kaidan entered a rapid command and administered a sedative, which quickly took effect. The woman's eyes began to flutter closed before they became fixated on the N7 logo on Shepard's chest plate. She gasped and tried to grab him but her arm didn't quite reach him and flopped onto her chest, her eyes closing and her body falling limp.

"What now?" Kaidan asked Shepard, who was already scooping her up into his arms.

"We get her somewhere quiet and safe. Then we need to figure out who she is."

At that moment, one of the C-Sec officers walked over to them, having dealt with the hangers-on. "Do you know this woman, Commander?" he asked.

"Uh… yeah, I think so," he mumbled, hardly able to believe what he was saying. Ignoring the curious looks he was receiving from his friends, he clutched her tightly against his chest. "I'll take responsibility for her, Officer. Spectre authority."

"Of course, Commander, Major," said the turian officer, who entered a quick report onto his datapad before leaving.

"Let's take her to the apartment," Shepard said. "Hopefully Steve will return with Dr. Chakwas soon and we'll figure this out."

"Wouldn't Huerta Memorial be better for her?" Joker asked as Kaidan picked up a few strange objects from the ground.

"No, that's not an option," Shepard stated. He didn't know what was happening, but he did know she needed to be around as few people as possible, and that once she awoke, they'd need a chance to speak privately. "Let's get her moved and quickly."

"What the hell?" Kaidan muttered, examining the woman's possessions.

"What have you got there?" Shepard asked Kaidan, who held a small pouch containing thin wooden sticks and a large, curved piece of wood, joined at each end by a taut string.

Joker took one of the sticks from the pouch. "Never seen anything like it," he commented, examining the arrow in his hand, noticing the engravings down its shaft.

"Maybe for hunting? But why would she have it here?" Kaidan wondered as he separated the quiver from the bow. "It can't be offensive. Our armor would snap those things in half or fry them."

"Bring them with us," Shepard directed and Kaidan nodded. "Let's get her upstairs and quickly. Come on."

"Okay," Joker began, "but I still think the hospital's-"

"Objection noted," Shepard interrupted sternly, his tone brooking no argument. Carefully, he steadied the woman into his arms and moved toward the elevator that would take them to the apartment.

~o~O~o~

Shepard roamed the kitchen of his apartment aimlessly, his nerves jarred by the arrival of the woman. Steve had, of course, made good on his promise to bring Chakwas back quickly, and while the men waited, the doctor assessed their mysterious guest's condition.

James had come in from his night at the arcade and had quickly been given an update on the evening's events. He, Kaidan and Steve were lounging by the fireplace, speaking in low voices as Shepard prowled the rest of the main floor, waiting to pounce on Chakwas when she emerged from the back bedroom.

He paused at the island in the center of the kitchen again and moved around a few pots and pans, his fingers tapping on the cool countertop before he pushed away and began another lap of the apartment.

"You're gonna wear the floor out," Joker said. The pilot was seated at the island, a beer in hand, and had quietly been watching Shepard pace for the last twenty minutes or so. "Plus, you're getting on my nerves with all this pacing. What're you so worked up about anyway?"

Steve entered the kitchen before Shepard could reply.

"Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing, Adam," Steve began. "I know finding that poor woman was a bit unexpected, but to be honest, you've had more interesting surprises than that before, most of which didn't even faze you."

Shepard sighed and nodded. "There's more to it than that," he explained. "I think… I believe I may know her. Or at least, I've seen her before. And if I'm right, then I can't begin to understand what it could mean."

Joker laughed. "Hey, man, I'm sure that whatever you need to share with us, Cortez will understand that we all have a past. Don't sweat it."

Steve smiled softly but Shepard shook his head.

"She's the woman from your vision, isn't she?" Kaidan asked as he too entered the kitchen, James at his side. "It took me a little, but I remembered that drawing you made after Virmire. It's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I think it is," Shepard replied, his voice hollow.

"Vision?" James asked, looking between the major and the commander. "Is this the one you got from that beacon on Eden Prime?"

"The first hints we had of the Reapers," Steve muttered under his breath. "But I've read that report, it doesn't say anything about a woman."

"It does," Shepard countered. "It's just not all that specific in her description."

James nodded slowly, his hands on his hips. "There _was_ a part that talked about you seeing a female that you implied was possibly human. But the analysts didn't think it was related to the core message, they figured it was a lingering image of some sort."

"Right," Shepard nodded. "The consensus was that she was separate from the intended communication. Her appearance didn't seem to connect with anything that was seen and since the original report was made, we've met Javik, who's confirmed humans weren't affected by the last cycle."

Kaidan leaned against the end of the island and crossed his arms. "Javik's information seemed to solidify the general belief that the woman in the commander's vision was unrelated. But I remember how clearly you saw her, how certain you were at the time that she was connected in some way."

"I was," the commander agreed, gesturing to the back bedroom where the woman was being treated by Chakwas. "Looks like I was right, too. But as much as I love proving anyone sitting in a lab analyzing my work wrong, it's opened a real can of worms. Who is she? Why is she here? And what the hell does she have to do with the Reapers?"

"I'd like to add a question to that list of yours, Commander," began Dr. Chakwas as she entered the kitchen from the back hall. "How is she alive?"

Shepard arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that what you do? Keep people from dying?"

She grinned at his cheeky comment. "I do and rather well, as the woman back there can attest, but that's _not_ the point of my question. I've run extensive blood work and while I'd very much like to have Mordin's opinion on what I've found, I do know one thing for certain. Your young lady, who looks to be no more than twenty-two or twenty-three years old, is far older than that."

Kaidan frowned. "How much older? Even covered in blood and wounds, it was hard to miss that she's probably in her early twenties."

"Genetic markers, as well as the inherited immunity traits present in her blood, indicate she is very likely over one thousand years old," Chakwas explained.

"You gotta be kidding me," James said quietly, shaking his head. "How's that possible?"

"Good question," Kaidan added. "Is she even human?"

Joker pulled a face. "If she is, she's using a damned good wrinkle cream."

"She's human, that much I can confirm, but how she's managed to outlive even an Asari matriarch is beyond me. And it's possible I'm shaving several hundred years off her actual age."

Shepard's handsome features revealed nothing and his voice was even and steady. "Is she all right?"

Chakwas nodded. "She is. Thanks to your and Kaidan's quick thinking, those medigels saved her life. I merely fine-tuned what you two started," the doctor continued. "Whoever she is, though, she's seen her fair share of injuries, some of which were rather brutal. My scans revealed numerous healed fractures to her legs, one arm, and at least ten ribs. She also suffered from a cracked skull at one point and is covered in scars."

James frowned. "You don't think somebody was hurting her, do you? If so, we need to keep her safe from whatever douche bag might be out there."

Shepard laid his hand on James's shoulder. "I agree and we will, James, that I can promise you. Apart from what she needs, though, I still need answers. We need to talk to her and soon. When will she wake up?"

Kaidan answered that question. "I only gave her a small dose. She'll be up soon."

"Okay," Steve replied before turning to Shepard. "Would you share the details of her part in your vision? I'd like to be of some help in all this."

"You always are," Shepard replied sincerely, smiling softly at the pilot. "Good suggestion. Grab a beer, fellas, and I'll tell you what I saw."


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are put into motion so that Abby's transition to the Normandy is as painless as possible.

**Shepard's apartment, the Citadel**

The pain was gone, its departure stirring Abby from her sleep. She opened her eyes cautiously, uncertain of what would greet her.

She knew she was in someone's home, though it was more luxurious and different from anything she'd ever seen before. As she studied the smoothness of the furniture around her, the perfect curves of the small table by the bedside, the graceful shape of the torch that gave light without a flame, she realized there was only one place she could be that would hold such wondrous things.

"Maker, thank you for your mercy," she whispered reverently, her heart humbled that she would find refuge within His holy city.

She slowly sat up, expecting to feel sore or stiff from her injuries, but smiled softly when she understood there was no pain. Glancing down at her arms and legs, she felt a flutter of embarrassment that she was disrobed, and was only covered by her underclothes. With a gasp, she saw that her injuries were healed, the magenta blotches that peppered her skin the only evidence left of them.

Her bare feet touched the smooth floor, the wood beneath her toes marvelously buffed, gleaming like a polished stone. Biting her lip, she knelt and touched it, her fingers following the perfect swirls and curve of the wood grain. Nothing, not even the most beautiful piece of Dalish artwork, could compare with the grace of this floor.

She rose and moved from object to object. Tentatively, she studied the near-blinding light that was produced by the small torch on a bureau, finally, carefully, holding her hand over its shining source.

"No heat," she marveled and gingerly put her fingertip to it. "It didn't burn me," she muttered, studying the small torch. "Maker, this place is astonishing."

She drew a deep breath and noticed there was no scent to the air, no smell of wood, food or animal. She peered around a corner and noticed clothing in a tidy space, and she felt the fabric, free of imperfections and even seams. Did all in this holy place enjoy such riches? Even she, the daughter of a very rich man had never felt material as fine and skillfully woven as this.

It was then that an idea struck her.

"He's a spirit," she whispered, thinking of the mysterious man. "He's one of the Maker's chosen!"

Understanding blossomed in her heart and she knew that the memory of her arrival here was not false. It was _he_ who had knelt by her side, he who'd healed her and brought her to this marvelous place. The beings and other men she'd seen must also be the Maker's creations and she…

She was dead.

Looking around her, she noticed a modest sized robe of black, shining material, and could not resist taking it from its place. It felt wonderful and cool against her fingers and instinctively she pulled it on, pleased to be able to cover some of her body, though it slipped off her shoulder, revealing more skin than she'd have preferred. Still, her modesty was mostly satisfied, and she left the small room, returning to the main one.

She noticed a break in the pattern on the wall and moved toward it, realizing it was an exit from the room. Her confidence bolstered by her knowledge that she was in the Maker's holy place, she smiled softly and boldly stepped through.

~o~O~o~

James saw her first, a glimpse of long blonde hair and black fabric flutter past the side doorway of the kitchen.

"Commander?" he said quietly, gesturing toward the hall. "I think she's up."

Everyone in the kitchen turned to see the young woman emerge from the hall and step down into the well by the couches. She moved quickly toward the outside of the apartment where she then slowed, approaching the floor-to-ceiling windows with caution, a hand raised to touch the glass.

Kaidan began to go after her, but Shepard caught his eye, shaking his head. They watched as she placed her hand against the glass; it was obvious she was fascinated by it.

Shepard moved quietly out of the kitchen and gestured for the others to remain. When he neared the fireplace, he hesitated, not wishing to scare her.

"Hello," he said in as gentle a tone as he could muster.

"Please. How does this work?" she asked, her accent immediately familiar to him. She didn't wait for his answer, or look at him before she spoke again. "I thought perhaps I could move it, that it was a veil of some sort, but it's hard."

"It's called glass," he answered.

"We have glass at home, but it's nothing like this," she replied, running her fingers over the smooth surface. "Ours is all colored and is bumpy and it's in tiny little pieces, at least, compared to this. Artists will use them in a large frame to make wonderful pictures, the smaller parts making a whole, but this is amazing."

"Where is home?"

"Highever," she answered, finally turning to face him, her blue eyes meeting his.

"And where is Highever?"

"Ferelden. This is the Golden City?" she asked. "And you've brought me here?"

"This is the Citadel," he said, watching her carefully. "I'm not sure how you got here."

"The Citadel? That means it's a fortress? After what the magisters did, I suppose that makes good sense," she reasoned, smiling gently. "As for how I got here, well, I killed the Archdemon. The rest, I suppose, is the Maker's doing. And yours."

"Mine?"

"Of course," she replied. "I've seen you in my dreams and I knew you would help us. I just didn't understand until now. May I ask, what sort of spirit are you?"

"You've seen me?" Shepard arched an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at his companions, who were watching. He looked back at her. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Justice? Honor? Fortitude?" she elaborated. "I hope it's not too impertinent of me to ask. Wynne explained that there are many of you and that if we're truly blessed, we may have the aid of a being such as yourself. Thank you."

"Unless there's a spirit of hard-ass, you're outta luck," Joker said, rolling his eyes.

"Lieutenant, now isn't the time," Shepard snapped, his tone hard enough to make the Normandy's pilot blanch. He met her eyes again. "You said you've seen me in your dreams?" At that moment, Kaidan and Steve arrived at Shepard's side, flanking him.

The pretty blonde nodded. "Yes. Twice. You came during the worst of them, when the very eyes of the Archdemon seemed to fall on me and I was paralyzed with my fear of it. You rallied me with your call and saved me," she explained, pointing to his chest plate. "Your symbol is the same, as is your voice. It was you and I'm grateful."

"Do you mean the commander's N7?" Kaidan asked, looking at the battered emblem on Shepard's armor.

"Yes."

"You said that before, Archdemon, isn't that what you called it?" Shepard began. "What is that, what do you mean?"

"In this Blight it was a dragon," she replied.

Joker snorted. "A dragon? What, like Puff?"

"Joker," Shepard growled, a clear warning to the pilot in his tone. He cleared his throat and met Abby's eyes. "Okay, I'm not sure I fully understand. What's a Blight?"

A soft frown came over her features and she seemed to watch him for a moment before replying. "How is it you don't know what a Blight is?"

Shepard realized his question was poorly timed. He needed to gain her trust without revealing he didn't fully understand why they were finally meeting. She seemed comfortable with him, to believe he was a _friend_ , for lack of a better term. He chose to return to less invasive questions.

"What's your name?"

"Lady Abigail Cousland, daughter of the Teyrn of Highever and a Grey Warden," she answered, her chin lifting slightly in pride as she did. "May I ask, ser, how I should I address you?"

"I'm Commander Adam Shepard, Alliance Navy and captain of the SSV Normandy. It's a pleasure to meet you, finally, Lady Cousland."

"Please, if you'll excuse the informality, I'd like you to call me Abby," she replied, blushing slightly. "I'm humbled to be in your presence, ser. To be standing amongst the Maker's first…" she paused, seeming to search for words. "Forgive me, I had never imagined such a thing."

Shepard nodded, glancing at Steve briefly, and the man arched an eyebrow.

"Adam," Steve began in a low voice. "I don't think you're going to be able to keep the truth from her. You don't understand what she thinks you are and if she thinks you're lying..."

"This could go south and fast, right," Shepard agreed with a soft sigh. He met Abby's eyes again and stepped closer to her. "Abby, I'm sorry, but I'm not a spirit. I'm a man and I don't believe I had anything to do with your arrival here."

Abby's smile slipped. "Of course you did," she argued. "Spirit or not, you led me here."

"How _did_ you get here?" Shepard asked quickly. "Do you know?"

"It's simple. I'm dead."

"You think you're dead?" Kaidan asked softly, his eyes darting to Dr. Chakwas who had also quietly ventured from the kitchen.

"I _know_ I am, ser," Abby replied confidently. "The only way to slay the Archdemon is with the death of a warden, otherwise the tainted deity would simply move from one darkspawn to the next. I dealt the final blow, it died on my father's blade."

"And then what?" Shepard inquired. "Do you remember dying?"

"I remember the burst of energy and being thrown high above the beast and the tower. I felt its power slam into my body and then…" she paused, studying Shepard. "Then I heard you again and finally, I saw your face."

James and Joker were standing near the piano, listening to her story. Dr. Chakwas slowly approached Abby, her movements calm and deliberate.

"Commander, if I may?" the doctor asked. Shepard gave a curt nod and Chakwas turned to Abby. "Abby, I am Dr. Chakwas and I treated your injuries. I agree they were severe, but I assure you that you're far from dead."

Abby's back went straight as a lance. "Madam, if you assisted me then I owe you my gratitude, but I assure you, I did not survive my encounter with the dragon."

Chakwas pursed her lips but didn't argue. Instead, she looked pointedly at the commander.

"Abby, answer something for me, will you?" Shepard began. "What year is it?"

Again, she watched him with slight uncertainty. "It's 9:31."

Shepard sighed, put his hands on his hips and moved to the massive windows. She came to stand next to him. "Abby, I'm not sure what's going on, but you've seen me before and I'll tell you, you've been in my own dreams. I know, though I'm not sure how, that you and I have something we must do together. Will you let me show you something? Do you trust me?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the others watching their conversation. "Are these your companions? Do they travel with you?"

"They do, they're good, capable people," he replied evenly. "Abby. I think I know where we can start to figure this out, but I need your trust."

Their gaze locked and he felt anxiety begin to bubble in his belly, her eyes revealing nothing.

"Then you have it, Commander."

**The Normandy**

Shepard stepped into the med bay, which had been taken over by Mordin during his research into a cure for the genophage. The salarian scientist didn't look up from his station when Shepard entered, and the commander gave Eve a nod of greeting as he moved to Mordin's side, waiting patiently until the doctor was ready to talk.

"Shepard," said Mordin, his hands moving in a blur over his console. "Problem? Development? Wrex ready to give tissue sample?"

"No, I just wanted to show you something."

"Related to genophage?"

"Well, no. Not really. I thought you could use a break from that," Shepard said in his most charming voice.

Mordin glanced sidelong at Shepard. "Tone of voice suggests soliciting of _favour._ Would not interrupt genophage work for trivial reason."

Shepard shrugged and held out Abby's rumpled leather armor, which Mordin prodded.

"Animal hide of some kind. Not amphibian. Not reptilian. Perhaps-"

"It's cured leather."

"Earth bovine species?" asked Mordin, and Shepard nodded. "If material is known, what is nature of query?"

Shepard leaned against Mordin's console and laid the armor down. "I'm sure you've heard, but a lady supposedly appeared from nowhere and is currently staying at my apartment, under Dr. Chakwas's care. She was wearing this get-up when we found her."

Mordin nodded. "Yes. Human female found on Citadel. Had heard. Much speculation surrounding her origin. Rumours of time travel." He shook his head and quietly snorted. "Preposterous."

"That's what I thought, but time travel doesn't even come close. How about inter-dimensional travel? Alternate realities?"

"Please." Mordin rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his console.

"She's definitely human – Dr. Chakwas's scans confirmed that – but she claims she's not from Earth, or else a place on Earth I've never heard of."

"Many humans not from Earth. Colony-raised, space-born, many possibilities. Being Earth-born not prerequisite for humans."

"She says she's from the kingdom of Ferelden, in the realm of Thedas," said Shepard, smiling as Mordin's brow bone rose.

"No, no, not Earth. Other planet. Perhaps uncharted one."

"I'm not sure she even understands the concept of 'planets'. All she knew was this… Ferelden. That was her whole world."

"Fabrication, perhaps?" Mordin speculated. "Subterfuge to conceal true intentions?"

Shepard held his hands up, shaking his head. "I don't think she's lying – she doesn't seem like the sort. Besides, I really think she _believes_ what she's saying."

Mordin turned fully to face Shepard, a finger at his chin. "Why special interest? Not your usual response to such an… absurd claim. No, usual response would be to dismiss as equine faeces."

Shepard sighed and took a minute to answer. "I dreamed about her."

Mordin shrugged. "Not unexpected. Arrival of female has generated much interest and speculation."

"No… I don't mean recently. I mean _before_ I met her. I first dreamed about her in 2183, when we encountered the prothean beacon."

"On Eden Prime?" Mordin frowned and again turned to Shepard, who pursed his lips and nodded.

"And before you ask, I'm _certain_ it was her. No doubts."

Mordin saw the assuredness and determination in Shepard's eyes, and knew better than to impugn the commander's assertion, though he remained sceptical. He nodded and moved to Abby's armor, which Shepard had laid out on a neighbouring examination table.

"She was wearing that," Shepard said again, unnecessarily. "According to EDI, light armor of this type was used extensively on Earth's European continent during the Middle Ages. It was used for hunting and by those who needed to move quickly and silently, like thieves and assassins. Our guest was also carrying a weapon which James says is a primitive version of the omni bows they have in the armory."

"Go on," prompted Mordin, his full attention on Shepard.

Shepard's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "She believes that I'm an agent of a deity known as the Maker."

"Am scientist, Shepard, not storyteller," said Mordin in irritation. "Have work to do. _Important_ work." He went to turn back to his console but was blocked by Shepard's arm.

"Dr. Chakwas also has proof that our lady is over a thousand years old."

"Impossible. Human lifespan-" His words were cut off as Shepard thrust a datapad into his hand, and Mordin's expression veered between astonishment and disbelief as he read Chakwas's findings.

Silently, he laid down the datapad and paused for a moment before returning to Abby's armor. "Will conduct extensive tests on material and blood," he said, pointing to a red stain on the bodice. _"Could_ use break from genophage work. Short one, of course," he amended with a glance at Eve.

"Thank you," Shepard said sincerely, moving to the door. "Let me know as soon as you have anything."

Mordin nodded. "Will contact you."

"Oh, there's one more thing, Doc. She also dreamed about me before we met."

Mordin looked up and frowned before shooing Shepard away with his hand.

~o~O~o~

Shepard didn't have to wait long to hear from Dr. Solus. The efficient salarian had summoned him only a couple of hours after they'd spoken, stating that he'd found something _interesting_ in Abby's DNA profile.

When Shepard arrived, however, he found not only Mordin but Dr. Chakwas waiting for him.

"Commander," said Chakwas, waving him to a chair. "Dr. Solus and I have combined our findings on Lady Cousland's ancestry. We've discovered something quite remarkable."

"Is this something I _need_ to sit down for?" Shepard asked as he took a seat, crossing a leg over the other.

Chakwas glanced at Mordin, who activated his omni-tool, bringing up an image full of randomised black and white squares and bars.

"What's this?" Shepard asked.

"DNA profile of Abigail Cousland," said Mordin, waving a hand across the screen. "Shepard, Dr. Chakwas, you share 99.9% of DNA with each other, as well as all other humans, living or dead. Including Abigail Cousland."

Shepard nodded. "Okay…"

Chakwas stepped forward and stood at the side of the screen opposite to Mordin. "The other 0.1% is what provides us with our individual traits, such as eye colour, gender, height, sexual orientation, inherited diseases and so on," she explained. "It also contains the genetic information we inherit from our parents. However, we do not inherit _all_ of our parents' DNA. We inherit something from everyone who has gone before us. Our grandparents, _their_ grandparents, and going back several generations – perhaps hundreds or even thousands of years back."

"Yes, yes, yes," said Mordin impatiently. "But 0.1% also contains vestigial or redundant markers. Markers copied, over and over and over through generations. Mutations form in redundant markers. Inherited by offspring."

Shepard held up a hand. "Slow down, Doc. You've lost me."

"What Mordin is trying to say," said Chakwas, "is that each of us have sectors on our individual DNA profile which serve no obvious function. They may have been needed at some point in our history, but no longer." She waited for Shepard to absorb that information before resuming. "When we inherit some or all of these redundant 'markers' from our parents, occasionally something is lost or altered. Imagine an artist making a reproduction of a piece of artwork. No matter how skilful the artist, the reproduction will not be _identical_. Each time the piece is reproduced, more anomalies appear. Even a digital copy is not always exact. Only a single pixel needs to be out."

"So… a single 'pixel' difference on someone's DNA map would be a mutation?" Shepard asked.

Chakwas nodded. "Precisely. That mutation would then be passed down to subsequent generations, providing a unique link which connects them with their ancestors."

"So Abby has a mutation in her DNA? That doesn't sound good."

"No. You misunderstand," Mordin stated. "Mutations not necessarily good or bad, unless mutation causes psychosis, cancer, birth defects… so many variables possible."

"Are you saying Abby has cancer?" Shepard demanded. "We can cure it, right? It's not some ancient form we know nothing about?"

Chakwas shook her head. "No, Commander, that was just an example. Cancer _is_ caused by mutated DNA, but we've found nothing sinister on Abby's DNA map. Very often, mutations have no discernible effect on an individual."

Shepard exhaled and sat back in his chair. "All right. I'm not really sure where this is going."

"Dr. Solus, if you would?" Chakwas prompted, and Mordin entered a command into his omni-tool, which magnified a section of Abby's DNA map.

"Mutation in mitochondrial DNA, inherited from mother. Unique to bloodline and passed down if Lady Cousland produces offspring. Mutation also shared with siblings."

"My preliminary scan and examination of Abby revealed that she has never given birth, so has no children to pass her DNA on to," Chakwas clarified. "However, this mutation _has_ been passed down by someone, indicating that she has one or more brothers or sisters."

"How do you know that?" Shepard asked. "Passed down to whom?"

A fleeting look passed between the two doctors and Mordin entered another instruction, bringing up a second screen with an exact copy of the pattern of Abby's mutated gene. "Identical match," said Mordin, "meaning shared ancestry between Abigail Cousland and…" He cleared his throat.

The screen zoomed out, and both doctors remained silent as Shepard read the identity of the second person.

_Adam Shepard, male, human, 1/11/2154 CE, Sol._

He silently gawked at the information for a long moment before finally standing and moving closer to the screens. _"What?"_ he exclaimed in disbelief.

"It means that you and Abby share a common ancestor," Chakwas explained. "You cannot possibly be her brother – even if time travel _were_ possible, your DNA does not indicate such a close relationship. Siblings share as much as 75% of the 0.1% with each other, even more so than their parents. In other words, one's closest relation in DNA terms is their brother or sister. You and Abby are not that closely related."

"Just… give me a minute here." Shepard slowly moved back to the chair and slumped down in it before leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "You're saying we're _related?_ That's ridiculous!"

"It would seem so, and yet there is the proof," said Chakwas. "Dr. Solus and I have been quite thorough. There is no mistake."

"All right, I wasn't accusing you of making a mistake. If anyone else was telling me this, I'd laugh at them. I just-I don't see how…"

"Time travel _not_ possible," Mordin muttered. "Some other explanation."

"We've been having quite the debate," Chakwas said. "I'm not willing to discount anything at this stage, although the concept of time travel is rather far-fetched."

"So you're saying we're related but we're not brother and sister. What, then?" Shepard asked with scepticism in his voice. "Is she supposed to be my great-grandmother or something?"

Mordin waved a dismissive hand through the air. "No. Not possible. Not enough similarities in base pairs. Similar to brother and sister explanation. _Not_ that closely related."

"The mutation was inherited from Lady Cousland's mother," explained Chakwas. "As Abby has no children, it must have been passed down by one of her siblings. Which makes _you_ her great-nephew, more than fifty times over."

"That can't be," Shepard refuted. "There must be someone else with the same mutation in their genes. It's just coincidence."

Mordin shook his head. "Mutations as unique as human fingerprints, patterns of iris. Same mutation in two different families even more unlikely than concept of time travel. Laughable notion."

"But… are you sure about this?" Shepard asked, his tone hushed.

"Quite sure," answered Chakwas confidently. "As you know, all humans undergo some form of gene therapy when they are infants to remove some of those markers which would tend the individual toward certain diseases, et cetera. Lady Cousland has had no such work done on her DNA profile. And the mutation you share with her is on a redundant marker, which is why it was not altered during your own gene therapy, or by Cerberus during Project Lazarus. The mutation has not been tampered with in any way. Both of you were born with it. There is no doubt about it – you _are_ related, and the most likely relationship is nephew and great-aunt."

"Fifty times over?" Shepard scrubbed his face and sighed, considering his next response. He was not a man who was easily flustered, but for just a moment he was lost for words. After a short pause, however, he donned what Steve called his 'Commander's Hat' and went straight into problem-solving mode. He stood up and once again moved to the screen.

"I just defeated my own clone. What's to say this isn't another of Cerberus's half-baked plans? Could Abby have been constructed from my DNA?"

"No, Commander," Chakwas said decisively. "You are descended from her, not the other way around. And I strongly doubt Cerberus would have existed in Abby's time."

Shepard nodded. "All right. How did you even know to compare our DNA?"

"They didn't," answered EDI, joining the conversation. "When the mutation was found, I saw a match with your own DNA profile and presented Dr. Solus with the salient information."

"Without EDI, we wouldn't have known," Chakwas agreed. "We had no reason to compare Abby's DNA with any of the crews'."

"Who's a clever AI?" Shepard quipped.

"I am," boasted EDI before the comm. was cut.

"Okay," Shepard said. "You've discovered that somehow Abby and I are related. Now we need to know how she got here, and why. It's becoming clear that this was no random occurrence."

"That's a different prospect altogether," replied Chakwas thoughtfully. "Researching her DNA was a snap in comparison – we had all the facts to hand, we merely needed to consolidate them. Dr. Solus and I might not be able to offer you more than guesses when it comes to how and why she's here."

Shepard shook his head. "Mordin, you've done more than enough, and I'm grateful, but I need you back working on the genophage. The situation on Palaven's growing more desperate by the hour."

"Agreed," said Mordin. "Will be here if Dr. Chakwas is in need of assistance, but must make genophage priority."

"Then I will do all I can, Commander," Chakwas promised. "I rather enjoy a challenge."

Shepard nodded once. "Thank you, both of you. Now I need to get back to the apartment – Abby needs a change of clothing. Liara's provided me with some things that should fit, and hopefully won't be too 'alien' looking. Do you think I should tell Abby about all this?" he asked Chakwas.

The human doctor folded her arms and frowned. "She _should_ be informed, but not yet. From your description, she was severely traumatised before Major Alenko administered the sedative. When she awoke, she was no longer alarmed because she believed she was dead and in a 'Golden City', which seems to be an allegorical reference to the afterlife, or heaven. You might have convinced her that you are not a spirit or apostle of her 'Maker', but she still believes she resides in this Golden City. Sooner or later, Commander, you will have to tell her the truth. And you will have to show her evidence of that truth.

I advise extreme caution with how much you expose her to and how quickly. She's an intelligent woman and will not be able to deny what she's seeing or hearing once provided with proof. Just consider how vastly different our world, our culture, will be from hers – and we know very little about that as it is. Find out more about her and I'm sure you will make the right decisions. But don't overload the poor girl's mind before she's ready. That's my advice, Commander."

"It's good advice, and I'll take it," said Shepard gratefully. "Doctor, I'd like you to accompany me back to the apartment and talk to her while I have a meeting with Kaidan, Steve and James – they're already at the apartment with Abby."

"Indeed," Chakwas said. "What will the purpose of the meeting be?"

"I want Abby on the Normandy. There are too many distractions and people coming and going at the apartment. I want her in quarters, where we can keep an eye on her and give her a peaceful environment. Well, as peaceful as possible, considering we're at war. We just need to figure out how to get her off the Strip and on to the Normandy without it being a complete shock to her system."

"You'll figure something out," Chakwas encouraged. "Why don't I take Liara's clothing up to Abby and have a girls' chat with her, find out what I can, while you and the others make plans?"

Shepard smiled and activated his omni-tool. "Good thinking, Doctor. Traynor – Dr. Chakwas and I are taking a shuttle to the apartment. I want to know immediately if there are any developments on Palaven or Tuchanka."

"Understood, Commander."

~o~O~o~

When Shepard arrived at the apartment with Dr. Chakwas, he was surprised and concerned to find the entrance door locked. Arching an eyebrow, he reached for the entrance sensor and waited until the security screen flickered, and James's face appeared.

"Oh, Commander, it's you. Just a sec."

"Everything okay, James?" Shepard asked as the door opened and the marine waved them in, saluting Shepard once the doors had closed.

"Everything's good, sir. No, it's just that… we had a few 'wellwishers' show up, who turned out to be the press, so I told 'em to get lost."

"I appreciate it," said Shepard with a slap to the other man's back. "How's she been?"

"Well as can be expected. We got her somethin' to eat – the major fried a steak with a few onions and stuff. She's never heard of coffee – you believe that? So she had water. Then we found some tea. She's drunk a shitload of that," he chuckled. "Esteban showed her around the apartment, but kept her away from the back where your terminal is. Mighta taken a bit of explaining. She's askin' a lot of questions, but we told her it's best to wait for you, and that you wouldn't be long. She's doin' okay."

"Where is she now?" asked Chakwas.

"Upstairs with Esteban. He found some clean slacks of Shepard's for her to put on. They're a little baggy, but they cover her legs. I think they're lookin' at the pictures on the walls now. She needs a shower," he whispered. "I know you cleaned her up, Doc, but she's got all blood and dirt in her hair. Glad you're here, actually. None of us wanted to suggest it in case she thought we were bein' inappropriate."

"I'll see to that," said Dr. Chakwas. "I have some clean clothing for her. I'll send Lieutenant Cortez down to you." With a nod, she headed for the stairs.

Shepard reached for Vega's hand and shook it. "Thanks for what you've done. Where's Kaidan?"

"Out back."

"Come on, then. We need to figure out how to get Abby on to the Normandy without freaking her out."

~o~O~o~

"We _could_ give her a sedative again," Kaidan suggested with a grimace, "but I'm guessing that would be a last resort."

"Right," Shepard agreed. "We're trying to gain her trust and that's not the way we'll do it."

"Sorry," Kaidan offered.

Shepard held up a hand. "Don't be. I'll entertain any ideas any of you have. Keep 'em coming."

Cortez leaned forward and stared at the poker table for a minute, deep in thought. "If I could land the Kodiak real close to the apartment building, say right by the doors, we could get her in there without her seeing all the bright lights and sky cars. I think that's what really frightened her the last time."

"Not the mention the tons of people who don't look like _us_ ," James added, thumbing at his chest. "Imagine seeing a krogan for the first time? Or a salarian?"

"I think she saw a few non-humans when she first woke up, but she hasn't mentioned them since," Shepard stated. "Maybe she thought she was dreaming, I don't know. But James is right – she needs as few surprises as possible right now. I think Steve's on to something."

"But _could_ you land the Kodiak that close?" Kaidan asked the pilot. "That's kind of a tight squeeze."

"I can do it," Steve confirmed with a nod. "The only obstacle would be C-Sec. I might need permission to land in an undesignated area."

"They'll give a Spectre permission," Shepard declared. "What about when Abby's in the Kodiak? How do we minimise her exposure?"

"I bring down the shutters," Cortez replied. "I don't need them up to fly. We're gonna need to keep her out back, though, and away from my console."

Kaidan gave a brief snort. "Yeah, all that tech'd be a real head trip for her. Okay, so I'll sit with Cortez in the cockpit, and Shepard, Vega and the doc stay in the back with her until we embark. Everyone okay with that?"

The other three men nodded. "What about when she's aboard the Normandy?" asked James. "I mean, she's gonna see a whole lot of tech once she's there."

Kaidan shrugged. "Sure, unless we blindfold her, she's going to see things, but she's seeing things in the apartment right now. Regardless, we need to make sure she's not overwhelmed."

"Port Observation Lounge," Shepard said. "I'll have a few people make up quarters in there for her, and I'll have Traynor inform the crew that it's being used as a private suite." He sat back and sighed. "The shutters will need to stay down in there for the time being, but I'll have to talk to her, tell her a few things – she can't stay in there forever. Let's just get her there first, though, and take it from there. We all up for this?"

"Yes, sir," answered Shepard's friends in unison.

Shepard stood up. "Okay. I'll make the arrangements with C-Sec. Once we're cleared with them, Steve and Kaidan will go down and prep the Kodiak. When Abby's ready to leave, I want you two already in the cockpit, and the doors closed, when James and I bring her aboard."

"Understood," said Steve, rising with the rest of them.

~o~O~o~

Shepard finished making the necessary arrangements for Abby's trip to the Normandy and climbed the stairs to his suite. He entered the seating area outside of his bedroom where Kaidan, James and Steve were talking quietly.

"Hey, Shepard, I think she's nearly ready," Steve began. "I hope you don't mind, but I let her use your bathroom. Chakwas said Abby seemed a little uncertain about using the shower, so I suggested she take her up to the Jacuzzi."

"It didn't occur to me, but I guess indoor plumbing may be a new concept for her," Shepard replied, his thoughts on Mordin's revelations that Abby was his ancestor. "If Abby's as old as the doctors say she is, there'll be a lot of things that she'll be uncertain about."

At that moment, Chakwas joined the group, sitting down next to James with a soft smile. "Before you ask, Commander, yes, she's finished bathing. I've shown her how to use the bathroom and basic toiletries, some of which I'm certain she believes I'm lying about."

James grinned. "Lying? Which ones?"

"The sonic toothbrush, for starters," the doctor shared, her smile still in place. "When I explained it to her, she was very curious and tried it briefly; the look on her face when it turned on was absolutely priceless. The poor dear practically threw it back at me!"

The others laughed but Shepard crossed his arms, his countenance thoughtful.

"Was she angry?" he asked. "Scared?"

"No, not in the least. Actually, I think she was a little embarrassed once she knew it wouldn't hurt her," Chakwas replied. "I I like her, Commander. She's polite, composed, and even when throwing a toothbrush, there's a grace about her. The idea of her being in combat... well, had I not seen the injuries myself, I don't know if I'd believe it."

"She's a lady," James said defensively. "Aren't ladies supposed to act like that? All soft and, you know, beautiful?"

"I think the doc said Abby had _grace_ , James," Steve argued with a shake of his head.

"Right, that's what I meant," the marine replied, flushing slightly. "Anyway, all I was saying is I agree with the doc. Abby seems like she's pretty nice."

A quiet beep sounded on the major's omni-tool and Kaidan looked at the commander. "Traynor says they're ready back at the ship."

"Good. Well, James, nice or not, let's get her back to the Normandy," Shepard said firmly. "I'm all for getting to know her, and I absolutely want her to feel safe and welcome, but we still have a lot of questions that need answers. The sooner we can get her moved, the better."

"I look forward to it," Abby announced, standing near the end of the hallway. James stood up and everyone else turned to face her as she continued. "I should very much like to see your ship, Commander. It's been some time since I've been aboard a vessel, but it's something I used to enjoy as a girl."

She moved toward them, her hair washed and combed back, a long plait over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Commander, for your hospitality. Your home is filled with wonders," she said with a smile, looking around her. "I'd never imagined having such luxuries. Thank you for sharing them with me." She met Dr. Chakwas's eyes and adjusted the jacket she was wearing. "Doctor, I hope that I'm acceptable? I believe I'm wearing everything as you explained."

Chakwas rose and nodded. "You are indeed."

Abby drew a breath and turned to Shepard. "Then, I, ser, am at your disposal, and ready to depart at your direction."


	3. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damage limitation is needed when Abby figures out her new home is not the Golden City.

Travelling to the Normandy had proven remarkably easy, and Shepard was grateful for their thorough planning. Abby had sat quietly in the back of the Kodiak, her eyes intense but her manner calm. If spoken to, she answered softly, and had seemed at ease, though James observed that she held the small arm of her seat with a white-knuckled grip. She'd caught him watching her and, realizing he'd seen the tension in her hands, had carefully moved them to her lap.

She did not look up again.

Once aboard the ship, she had silently followed Shepard up to the lounge which had already been converted for her use.

As requested, Traynor had dropped the shutters over the massive floor-to-ceiling window that dominated that room. A small but comfortable bed was tucked into the far corner and somehow the resourceful specialist had managed to procure some additional clothing for their guest. It was all hung neatly in the area near Abby's bed.

Kaidan left them to speak with Mordin, but James and Steve lingered while Shepard explained the basics of the room. After showing her how to dim the lights and use the door – but deliberately avoiding the shutter controls – he shared with her a small collection of poetry books, replicas that Liara had asked Traynor to pass along.

He'd been hesitant to give her anything that could highlight the differences between her world and theirs, but the note he'd received on his omni-tool assured him that the paper items were what Abby would have accessed. The Asari scientist advised him she'd carefully chosen the titles to be as non-specific as possible and Abby had seemed delighted to receive them.

Hours later, as the day drew to a close, James and Steve departed, leaving Shepard and Abby to speak alone. He'd had an update from Mordin that the genophage cure would be ready very soon and needed to prepare Abby for the possibility that he would be on a mission before they could begin to learn more about their connection.

The blonde woman sat on the other end of the couch, her hands folded neatly on her lap as she listened to his reasons for his impending departure.

"Are we underway now?"

Shepard nodded. "We are. We'll be arriving soon and when the time comes, I'll need to meet with the leaders and help them with their fight. I'm sorry, I know we need to talk, but I've given my word and the Krogan people have given theirs. The war we're fighting can't succeed without their strength."

"I understand, truly I do. My fellow warden and I travelled throughout my homeland bringing other races together, others without whom our cause would have been lost. You must see to your duty, Commander. Do not apologize to me for doing so."

With a sigh, he stood. "I'm glad you understand my circumstances, Abby. I don't want to leave you here waiting, but you're right, this isn't a duty I can ignore. I promise you that we'll talk more once I return."

"I will be here. Thank you for explaining," she replied. She paused, then, seeming to consider his words. "You _did_ say we're underway, did you not?"

"I did."

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Simply amazing, ser, I feel no motion at all. I only hear a soft hum. I expect your ship is more of a marvel than your home, Commander."

"While I'm gone, would you be comfortable with lieutenants Cortez and Vega checking in on you? I expect Dr. Chakwas will as well."

"Certainly, I enjoyed their company and should be glad to have it again."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," he replied, touching the door which instantly slid open. "Try and get some rest. If you need anything, just use the small communicator I gave you earlier. I'll come and see you as soon as I return."

"Thank you," she said softly, blinking several times. "Maker watch over you, Commander."

**xXx**

Later that day, Shepard was seated on the foot of the bed in his cabin, half a dozen datapads scattered around him, when a cup of coffee was pushed under his nose.

"Thanks," he said with a grateful smile, moving the datapads out of the way so Steve could sit beside him.

"Hell of a day," commented Cortez as he started to unzip one of his boots.

Shepard took a sip of coffee and rubbed the back of his neck with a groan. "Which of them aren't?"

Steve set his own coffee down. "Need a hand with that?"

"You don't need to ask twice," Shepard said softly, turning his back on Cortez, and Steve moved his hands to Shepard's shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles.

"Abby seems to likes you," Shepard said.

"Ah, I think she realised pretty quickly that we weren't a threat to her."

"I agree with that, but she's taken quite a shine to you. Will you do something for me, Steve?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Well, Mordin's getting close to finishing his cure, and pretty soon I'll be heading for Tuchanka. We're already en route. Once you've dropped me off…"

"You want me to keep an eye on her?"

"Would you?"

Steve laughed. "Of course. I'm sure James will, too. He's taken quite a shine to _her."_

Shepard turned back to Steve, who paused his massage. "In what way?"

Steve shrugged and stroked Shepard's neck with his thumbs. "You know."

"He likes her? As in _likes_ her?"

"I think so. He doesn't turn bright red when I enter a room, that's for sure."

"Huh." Shepard again turned slightly away from Steve and relaxed against the pilot's chest, releasing a sigh. "You probably won't believe this, but Mordin and Chakwas found out I'm related to Abby."

Steve's hands stilled and he took a minute to answer. "Come again?"

"I know, right? It took me a bit to get my head around, too. Here, look." He activated his omni-tool and showed the doctors' findings to Steve, doing his best to repeat what they'd told him. By the time he'd finished explaining, the two men were facing each other, side by side.

"That's insane," Steve mumbled. "There's absolutely no way they're mistaken?"

"Those two? Are you kidding?"

Steve blew out a breath and frowned. "You know, James made a comment about you two looking alike, your colouring, especially your noses, but… I can't believe it."

"Crazy universe we live in, huh?"

Steve nodded. "Does Abby know?"

"Not yet, and neither does anyone else except the doctors and us. I figured I'd let Abby have one peaceful night before I dump all that on her. How am I going to explain what we're doing here, that soon we'll be orbiting a planet she's never heard of? Hell, I don't think she even knows which planet _she's_ from. How do I explain the Reapers?" He shook his head and sipped at his coffee.

"Don't," Steve advised, and Shepard gave him a confused look. "Just explain one thing, maybe… what the Normandy is, that we're able to fly through the stars. You don't need to go into mass effect fields or eezo or multicore shielding, just reveal one thing. Then let her ask questions and answer them as honestly as you can. That way, _she_ controls the flow of information instead of being bombarded with it all at once."

Shepard gave Steve a fond smile. "Well, now you're _definitely_ looking after her while I'm gone."

"I'd be happy to."

At that moment, Shepard's omni-tool pinged and he sighed before activating it. "Shepard here."

Dr Solus's face appeared on a small screen. "Shepard. Am in War Room with turian and krogan delegates. Need you here."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. Have synthesised genophage cure."

Shepard drew a sharp breath and straightened up. "Be right there." He quickly tapped his omni-tool. "Joker, ETA on Tuchanka?"

"'Bout an hour and a half, Commander."

"Can you shave any off of that?"

A short pause followed. "I can get you there in fifty minutes."

"Do it. Garrus, Kaidan, shuttle bay in–" He looked at Steve.

Recognising that Shepard had now donned his Commander's Hat, Steve pulled his boot back on, quickly stood and knocked back the rest of his coffee before setting his cup down. "I'll have her ready in thirty."

"Thirty minutes," Shepard finished before deactivating his omni-tool. As Steve turned to leave, Shepard stood up and touched his arm. "We'll have that uninterrupted evening someday, I promise."

"Just keep yourself safe. That's all I ask." Steve stepped close to Shepard and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Anything for you, you know that," replied Shepard, smudging Steve's lower lip with his thumb.

"Good."

They shared a brief smile before stepping out of Shepard's cabin and into the elevator.

**xXx**

The timbre of the ship's hum changed and Abby, who was seated on a couch, laid aside the book she'd been trying to distract herself with to concentrate on the altered sound. Standing, she crossed the room and laid her palm against the hull, wondering briefly if they'd arrived at their location.

Quietly she offered a short yet humble prayer to the Maker, asking that he guide the commander and his companions in their actions and bless their mission with success. But her prayer reminded her of her circumstances and she sighed.

It had been easy to distract herself with her extraordinary surroundings, her curiosity constant, but now, left to her own devices for the night, she was finding it very difficult not to wonder what her arrival here and her connection to Shepard all meant.

Despite Dr. Chakwas's assurances to the contrary, Abby would not accept that she was alive. Even _if_ her Order was wrong - something she couldn't fathom given the history of the Blights - and she'd somehow managed to kill the Archdemon _without_ giving up her own life, the truth must be she was in the Golden City. Therefore, she was dead.

She must be, mustn't she?

The marvels at the commander's home had been nearly beyond her comprehension, and with a heavy sigh, she again struggled to quell the anxiety that churned in her belly. Shepard and his companions had been elusive and the commander had seemed as unsure of her arrival as she, though she'd adamantly fought against her own unease.

"There's nowhere else I can be," she whispered to herself, swallowing hard as she fought back the tingling of panic in her spine. "Nowhere else."

Travelling to his astonishing ship had nearly overwhelmed her, but she'd harnessed her nervousness, turning its energy into focus, and had not revealed to the commander and his companions that she was afraid. With a small smile, she thought of her father, knowing he'd have been pleased with her self-discipline.

She wondered what he would tell her now that it was beginning to slip.

She played with her plait, finally undoing it and running her fingers through the tangles as she paced the room. Her eyes darted around, the dozens of objects that were mysteries to her seeming to jump out at her. Everything here was so strange, so foreign to her and she wondered what else it could be that Shepard would show her, as he'd promised to do.

Closing her eyes, she drew a steadying breath.

Commander Shepard had saved her life, not once, but twice. That he claimed not to be a spirit or to know how she came to be here rattled her to her core, battering the confidence she held in where she was.

The Chant of Light stated that the Golden City had been built by the Maker for the souls of his mortal children to reside in after their living bodies had perished. It had been desecrated by the Magisters, who'd defiled it not only with their presence, but with their arrogance as well, its streets turning black when they'd entered. This had been the birth of the first darkspawn.

It was a fundamental lesson of the Chant, one used by the leaders of the Chantry, to remind its followers of the need for humility as well as submission. Had the Magisters not disobeyed the Maker, had they remained humble and grateful for their gift of magic, the Maker would not have abandoned His children and the Blights would never have been.

She remembered as a child, asking her tutor what the Golden City would have looked like, and they'd spent many lessons discussing the majesty of their creator. They'd searched the Chant for any kind of description, learning that it was a bright and beautiful place, but this had been lost, the Black City taking its place long ago.

A shiver of fear shook her frame.

Nothing in the Chant spoke of a second city, nothing in any of its teachings told of another place prepared for those faithful to the Maker. The only hope offered to His followers was that if they were faithful enough they would return to His side. Here she stood, untold wonders surrounding her, and she could not escape the knowledge that the Chantry taught: that the Golden City no longer existed.

So where _was_ she?

She shook her head, trying in vain to scatter the fearsome thoughts swamping her certainty. "No," she hissed, shaking her head again. "No. There can be no other answer. I _am_ in the Golden City."

Drawing several slow breaths, she closed her eyes and struggled to quell her panic. But just as she was beginning to master herself once more, the hum of the ship changed again, and her heart leapt inside her chest. With a strangled, choking gulp, she finally uttered the truth she could no longer avoid.

"How can I be here if the City is no more?"

Opening her eyes, she studied the glow of the door panel, and with a mask of determination, moved toward it. Gathering what was left of her courage, she left the room.

**xXx**

James and Steve were stepping off of the elevator just as Abby walked past, the _swoosh_ of the doors startling her. As they recognized her, she stopped, meeting their looks of surprise with a wild one of her own.

"Where am I? What do you call this place?" she demanded, her eyes alight with fear.

"Abby?" Steve exclaimed, his eyes widened with shock. "What's going on? Why did you leave your room?"

As James approached her, she backed away. "Abby, it's okay, you're safe! What happened?"

"Is this the Maker's home?" she yelled, her face contorted with a myriad of emotions.

"You're on the Normandy, Abby, you know that," Steve replied calmly as he neared her.

"That's _not_ what I asked you," she rasped. "Is this the Maker's home?"

James met Steve's glance and arched an eyebrow.

"It's not a difficult question! A simple yes or no will do!" she snapped. She waited but neither man spoke further. "That's a no, then, isn't it? He's not here," she concluded, backing away from them.

Suddenly, she darted past them and onto the elevator, slapping the glowing console at its interior.

"EDI!" James bellowed, moving slowly toward Abby, who had trapped herself inside the small room.

"The elevator is disabled, Lieutenant," replied the AI.

"Who was that?" Abby demanded, looking around her. "That was a woman!"

"Abby, please, I know all this seems like a lot, but you can trust us," Steve said quickly.

The scared woman's vivid blue eyes were clouded with tears. "No, _none_ of this is what I thought it was," she rambled in a frantic tone. "Who was that speaking?"

Steve offered a gentle smile. "Everything is fine, Abby, there's nothing to be worried about. Why don't we – "

"No! Who spoke to me?"

"It was EDI," James replied softly. He stepped into the elevator with her, but made sure not to block the exit with his large frame. "She's a computer, an artificial intelligence that's part of the ship."

"Correction, Lieutenant," EDI's calm voice said, and Abby's eyes darted around them, still not seeing a source for the female voice. "I _am_ the Normandy."

"Where are you?" Abby asked softly, blinking rapidly. "Why can't I see you?"

"The easiest explanation, Lady Cousland, is that I am the ship. Simply put, I am everywhere, though should you wish to speak with my physical form, you may do so at the helm. It is a pleasure to have you aboard. May I call you Abby?"

Abby's chin trembled. "In my world, if I encountered a voice, one whose owner I could not find, I would think it a demon."

"Demon?" EDI asked. "My understanding is that a demon is an evil spirit, devil or fiend. I am none of those things, Lady Cousland. My purpose is to protect the Normandy and her crew, and while this may sometimes entail deploying certain measures of calculated aggression, I do not believe this qualifies me as 'evil'."

"EDI?" James began quietly, seeing Abby's rising panic at their continued interaction, "maybe you could explain more to Abby another time, and, you know, _in person_."

"Yes, that may prove more effective," replied the AI. "I am available should any of you need my assistance."

James nodded, his eyes locked with Abby's. "Thanks, EDI, I think we're okay," he said. Abby's chin continued to quiver as he slowly reached his hand out to her. "Abby, I know this whole place has to seem crazy and I wish I could tell you how got here, but I can't. I swear, nobody here is gonna hurt you."

She shook her head, her blonde hair a wild cloud around her as her gaze locked onto James's extended hand. "Where am I? Where is here?"

"Abby, as much as we'd like to, we _can't_ explain things," Steve said gently. "Commander Shepard will come back and you and he can talk. I promise–"

" _Where am I_?" she demanded, cutting him off. "How is it that you _can't_ answer that question? Why will you not tell me?"

"There's a lot about our ship that you won't understand," Steve explained. "It's not that we won't tell you, it's that we're trying to make sure you're ready when we do."

"For what? Why would you need to ready me for anything? It's not a complex question, ser, and doesn't warrant a complex answer! I will _not_ ask you again; tell me where you've taken me!"

"We're orbiting over Tuchanka, the home world of the Krogan," James blurted out. "The commander is on a mission with their leaders."

"James, we're _not_ at liberty to explain things," Steve said pointedly. "The commander–"

"Isn't here," James replied tightly, his eyes not leaving Abby. "And she's scared."

"Lieutenant Vega, the commander and I had a _very_ specific conversation."

"Orbiting?" Abby repeated slowly, the fear in her eyes still obvious. "Stars orbit, moons orbit... but not ships."

"This one does," James said matter-of-factly.

She scoffed, shaking her head, causing a tear to slip down her cheek. "No, no they _can't_. One cannot orbit when one is in the sea."

"James," Steve said in a low tone. " _Don't_."

Abby looked slowly at Steve and then back at James.

"Abby, I'll tell you," Vega whispered sincerely, extending his hand to her again. "I can't answer all of your questions because I don't know how, but I _can_ show you where you are."

"James, this is a mistake," Steve argued. "It'll be too much for her."

She blinked, her gaze quickly darting to Steve and then locking onto James's hand. Slowly she took it and he held it, leading her off of the elevator toward the lounge, leaving Steve shaking his head.

"Damn," the pilot muttered under his breath, quickly moving to follow them.

**xXx**

They entered the lounge together, Steve and James flanking Abby who still clung to James's hand. Steve, having a good idea what James intended to show her, moved to the far side of the massive window, his arms crossed as he watched James reach the shutter control panel on the opposite side.

"Abby, behind this panel is a window," Steve began, "and what you're going to see outside of it is Tuchanka."

Tentatively, she released James's hand and moved to the center of the space, her eyes on the shutters. "All right," she said softly. "I'm ready."

James triggered the release and the shutters began to retract, slowly revealing a star-filled sky. She stepped forward, gazing up at the vibrant colors as they were exposed.

"Maker, it's beautiful," she whispered, moving to the glass, her palms pressing against it as she looked up.

The shutters completed their opening sequence and James arrived at her side, Steve joining them.

She smiled softly, her eyes aglow with the display around her. "How is it your sky is so vast? I've never seen–" suddenly she gasped, scrambling away from the window, grabbing James as she did. "There's nothing beneath us!"

Steve moved to the window as James kept Abby from running from the view. "What James told you in the elevator was true," he explained, gesturing behind him. "That orb below us is a planet called Tuchanka. It's the home world of an alien race known as the Krogan. We're in orbit above it. Our ship doesn't travel on water, Abby, it flies above worlds."

"Planet?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"A celestial body, like a moon, only much bigger," Steve explained. "Some are uninhabited, while others have people living on them. The planet below us is where Commander Shepard is right now."

She gaped but took a hesitant step closer to Steve.

James, firmly at her side, elaborated. "People used to travel from one city and country to the next on water, but then, humans created machines that allowed them to travel in the air. Eventually, our people learned how to go beyond the blue skies and farther."

"Is this ship like a bird? Is it a creature? Is that how EDI was able to speak? The ship is alive?"

Steve shook his head. "No, it's not, and while it does have wings, they don't move like a bird's would," he replied. "What do the ships in Ferelden use to move them? What creates their momentum?"

"Sails of fabric," she answered softly. "The wind fills them and the vessel moves with it. If one were to travel the rivers, though, paddles are sometimes used instead."

"Our sails are called engines," James explained. "They produce our momentum, propelling us, and our helmsman, Joker – you remember him? – controls our direction and speed."

"With rudders?"

"No, not quite," Steve replied, "but there are panels that can be adjusted to aid in things like landing, or docking."

She nodded slowly. "What if we fall?"

"We won't," James assured her. "Where we are, above the clouds, is called outer space, and up here, it's different. There's no air, no wind, and nothing to pull us down. If our engines failed, we'd float, not fall."

Steve studied her for a few quiet breaths. "How are you feeling?"

Forcing a smile, she returned to the window and looked down. "I don't know," she confessed, her eyes moving from star to star. "I... A little over a year ago, I'd never left my parents' side, reared close to home, my life's path clearly before me. I learned a hard lesson when they died, I'd never known what a very ignorant girl I was. I had no idea of the way of the world or of the things in it. I only knew the perfect cocoon my family had kept me in. I _hate_ that feeling, realizing you know nothing."

She turned around and met their gazes evenly.

"The Chant of Light says the Maker created our world, He created us," she explained quietly. "I've spent my entire life being believing He is the center of everything and everyone," she continued as she turned and looked out again. "The last year I lived on Thedas was one filled with murder, abuse, lies and slaughter on a scale I cannot describe. The vile things I've seen and had to do... I believed He would save us and that somehow, some way, _we_ would manage to save _them_... I thought I'd begun to learn." Her words trailed off and she sighed. "Seeing all this, I wonder how I ever thought I was no longer that stupid little girl."

"You're not stupid, Abby," James gently argued. "We're just different, is all. I can't tell you a thing about your home, but I can listen, I can ask you to tell me about it. What we're doing right now is the same thing."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "What you're doing is humoring a scared fool. I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head. "How could I have _ever_ thought this was the Golden City?"

Steve moved to her side and offered a gentle smile. "Look, you're no fool and there's a reason you're here, a good one, we just have to figure it all out. And as far as what you thought all this was, while I can't say I'm familiar with your Maker, I _am_ familiar with the need to hold onto what feels safe. I'd say that's instinct."

"Considering it all, I'd say you could teach us all a thing or two about keeping it together," James added. "I can't imagine waking up from some huge battle and having everything you've ever known flipped upside-down. Don't be so hard on yourself."

She nodded. "You're both kind. Thank you, I think I'm feeling much better."

Steve's omni-tool chimed softly and he checked it. "I'm sorry, Abby, I've got a few things I really should take care of so that I'm ready to retrieve the commander and his team. Would it be all right if I came to see you in the morning?"

"Of course, you must see to your charges," she immediately agreed, quickly adopting a more formal tone. "I'm grateful, Lieutenant Cortez. I appreciate your help very much."

"Please, call me Steve," the pilot replied. "I'll be back in the morning and we'll talk some more then, okay?" He moved toward the exit and met James's eyes. "James, I'll catch you back down in the hangar."

"You will indeed, my friend," James said before turning to face Abby. The lounge doors opened and closed and he smiled kindly. "You, uh, you gonna be okay?"

She drew a shaky breath but returned his smile. "I expect I'll be walking about in a constant state of amazement, mingled with a bit of panic now and again, but yes, I'll be all right. I barely reacted when Steve's arm began to glow, so, progress already."

"His arm? Oh," he chuckled. "His omni-tool. Yeah, I guess that would look a little weird. You'll be seeing a lot of those, almost everyone uses them. They're how we communicate with each other if we're not together, how we purchase supplies, that sort of thing."

"I expect that is a helpful thing," she replied and then sighed. "I'm sorry, James, I was in such a state. I'm normally made of stronger stuff, I assure you."

"I believe it," he replied, something warm in his voice. "You _did_ kill a dragon, after all."

She chuckled. "I suppose I did," she agreed, her smile fading as a thoughtful look came over her. "What was it that other gentleman said earlier, at the commander's home? 'Puff' something?"

James ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed that she'd heard Joker's snide comment. "Uh, that's just Joker, he's kind of a smart-mouth. Puff was a dragon in kids' stories a long time ago. A nice one."

"Oh."

"I'm guessing your dragon wasn't too nice?"

She shook her head. "No, actually, it wasn't. It was rather unfriendly and most eager to squash me under one of its feet, not that I let it."

James arched an eyebrow. "Just how big was this thing?"

She shrugged. "Nearly twenty meters from snout to tail, and its wingspan was nearly double that. The size wasn't the real problem, though; it was the fire it tended to blow on us all that was tricky."

With a shake of his head, he blinked. "You're pulling my leg."

"No, not in the least."

"You're amazing, you know that? You killed something that size? With a sword?"

She grinned again. "Not too amazing. I did die, after all. Or something like it, anyway," she reminded him. "Besides, I wasn't alone and that makes everything easier."

"Well, you're not alone now, either. Maybe that will make all this easier, too."

Silently she nodded, her gaze returning to the planet below.

"It's late, I should let you get some sleep," he began, touching a fingertip to her forearm for a moment. "Think you're ready? Can you sleep?"

"I believe so."

"Good," he whispered and moved to the shutter controls.

"Wait, please, leave it open," she requested. "I know I'm safe. I'd like to see all that I can."

"Okay. But if you need anything, just use that communicator the commander gave you. I can be up here in no time."

"Thank you."

He rocked on his heels, his hands jammed into the pockets of his fatigues. "I guess I should go, you need your sleep." He returned to the exit and opened the door, lingering at the threshold, watching her quietly. "Good night, Abby."

She turned to him, the glow of the planet below casting a light around her, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. "Good night, James. And thank you."


	4. Good Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard jumps to the wrong conclusion after returning from a grueling mission on Tuchanka.

The mission on Tuchanka had taken far longer than Shepard had anticipated. He, Garrus, Kaidan, Wrex, Baraka and Mordin had landed on the planet a day earlier, but three of them had not been on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy. Wrex had remained on the planet with Baraka while they made plans for the future of the krogan people, now that they had a future.

And Mordin… Mordin would never be coming back.

Shepard now stood outside the Port Observation Lounge. He'd finished his debriefing with Hackett and had sent a very strongly-worded reply to the Salarian Dalatrass's spiteful email. Steve had sent him a brief note saying he'd understand if Shepard wanted to be alone, but if he wanted to talk…

Shepard had not yet replied to that one.

He did need to talk to someone, needed to distract himself from his anger and hurt over Mordin's loss. Someone with whom he could pretend everything was all right, who could allow him to rely on his façade of control until he could begin to believe in it himself.

Steve would catch up with him eventually, and Shepard wouldn't deny his partner the chance to offer him solace, but if he was honest with himself, at this moment what he needed was someone who needed _him_.

He needed to talk to Abby.

He drew a few slow breaths and reached for the entry sensor, waiting a beat until the door slid open. He blinked, not expecting to find Lieutenant Vega on the other side.

"James? What are _you_ doing here?"

James shifted his weight slightly and moved aside, allowing Shepard entrance. "Hey, Commander. How'd it go on Tuchanka? Esteban said–"

Shepard charged straight past him and into the lounge, his nostrils flaring, his fists clenched at his sides. "What the hell are the shutters doing up?" he demanded, spinning around and fixing James with an icy glare.

James clasped the back of his neck, a nervous laugh rushing out of him. "Uh, yeah… about that…"

Shepard folded his arms. "Well? I'm waiting _._ And where's Abby?"

"She's in the, you know, ladies room," James explained, lowering his voice. "As I was about to say, Esteban asked me to stay with her until you got back from–"

"I _asked_ you a question, Lieutenant."

"Right. You did." James moved closer to the window, where Tuchanka could clearly be viewed below. "Thing is, Abby was struggling with some questions while you were gone, and we didn't know how long you'd be. It just seemed… I dunno, wrong not to answer them."

"We?" Shepard stepped forward, coming toe-to-toe with the younger marine. "Who's we?"

The panel on the door chirped, and James froze for a second, unsure whether or not to answer it. After a minute, he headed for the door, feeling Shepard's eyes boring into him. He pressed the panel and the door opened, allowing Lieutenant Cortez to enter.

The shuttle pilot immediately registered the anger in his lover's eyes, and held his hands up in appeasement. "Shepard…"

"You _knew_ about this?"

"It's okay," Cortez began, slowly moving closer to Shepard.

"No, Steve, it is _not_ okay! We talked about this! I wanted her to have just one night, one night before her whole world was turned upside down! Damn it, we _talked_ about this!" He placed his hands on his head and started to pace the lounge.

Steve, who knew what had happened on Tuchanka, realised the true source of Shepard's chagrin and kept his voice steady when he answered. "James was right, sir, and I agreed. It was the right thing to do," he said softly.

"Wait, no," James interrupted, his hand slicing through the air. "You don't need to defend me." He turned to Shepard. "Don't blame Esteban, sir. He tried to warn me off but she was scared, and starting to panic. She needed us to explain something, anything, and I couldn't let her be afraid like that. I had to do _something_. I'm sorry, but telling her was inevitable, Commander. She's fine, now, and with all due respect, I don't know why you're so upset."

"Upset?" Shepard stalked towards James and jabbed him on the chest with his finger. "I'll tell you why I'm upset! I trusted you two to take care of her while I was gone, to ease her in, and I come back to find you've told her… what exactly _have_ you told her? That we're being harvested by gigantic, fifty million-year old machines? And you think she was scared before?"

"No, sir! We didn't say anything about the Reapers, but did you really expect us to keep _lying_ to her?" James retorted, backing off a step. "She thought we were on the sea, that you were captain of a friggin' boat or somethin'! Are you telling me we should have let her keep freakin' out?"

"Watch your tone, Lieutenant," Shepard warned, and James sighed, waving a hand in resignation.

"Adam, please," Steve broke in, coming up behind Shepard.

"Back off, Steve," Shepard replied, his voice deceptively calm. "This is not–"

A throat was quietly cleared from the far end of the room and all three men turned to face Abby, who was standing quietly, her hands clasped together.

"Ah, Abby, you're back," James began, and Shepard turned his back on all of them, hands on hips as he fought to regain his composure.

"Hey," Steve whispered to Shepard, laying a hand on his arm.

"You could have told me about this on the way here," Shepard hissed through gritted teeth. "I should have been prepared."

Steve gave an apologetic shrug, his eyes downcast. "It didn't seem like the right time, after... When _would_ have been the right time?"

"Any time would have been better than _now_ , and maybe then I wouldn't have come in here _yelling."_

"Commander," Abby said in a crisp, clear voice. "You're kind to have wanted to protect me, but I am not made of china."

Shepard slowly turned around, finding that Abby had stepped closer and had heard his and Cortez's conversation.

"She sure as hell isn't," added James with what sounded like pride, or admiration, in his voice.

"Right," Shepard mumbled, momentarily disarmed.

"Perhaps I misunderstand the situation," Abby began, "but you placed me in the care of these capable gentlemen while you were away. For the past day and night, your men have helped me a great deal. I'm afraid I lost my composure and allowed panic to get the better of me. I truly left them with no choice but to show me… this…" She moved to the window and placed a hand against the glass, sharing a smile with James.

"I pressed your men, Commander, and forced their hands. I was beginning to form my own answers to my relentless questions, answers which, clearly, were wrong. Your lieutenants saved me from my imagination and I'm grateful for their help. I may be speaking out of turn, but I do not believe they merit your censure."

All eyes turned to Shepard and he watched Abby carefully, finding no hostility in her demeanour, only grace and steady dignity. He slowly nodded before releasing a quiet sigh, and Steve stepped closer to him, again laying a hand on Shepard's arm.

"James and I have gotten to know Abby a little better while you were gone. She's a strong woman. We wouldn't have gone ahead if we didn't think she could handle it."

"Yeah," James echoed, "but… sorry. Y'know, for going over your head. And for the record, Esteban told me you wouldn't be happy about it."

Steve shook his head. "I did, but… it _was_ the right time. The right call. It wasn't about us disregarding your wishes, Adam, it just seemed natural."

Shepard watched both men for a moment before his shoulders and jaw relaxed slightly. "All right," he said quietly. "I always encourage those under my command to think on their feet, and it seems that it worked out okay on this occasion. Abby, I'd like to apologise for my outburst."

A small smile curved Abby's mouth. "There is no need. I know how it feels to carry the hopes, the expectations, of so many. You are a warrior, a champion of your people. Such status carries its own rewards, but is also a terrible burden… one I'm familiar with. I understand, Commander."

Their eyes met, and Shepard tentatively matched Abby's smile.

"Why don't we…?" James looked at Steve and nodded toward the door.

Steve watched Shepard for a minute before nodding. "Okay," he agreed before leaning closer to Shepard, "but you need to rest."

"I will," Shepard assured the pilot. "I think I'd like to get to know Abby a little first, though. She seems like an interesting person. Besides, I can't have you two getting the jump on me."

"Let's go," said James, heading for the door.

"I'm going to run a diagnostic on the Kodiak, and then you're getting some rest," Steve insisted, pointing at the commander. "Couple of hours. Don't make me come looking for you."

"Promise," Shepard replied with a soft look at Steve, who nodded and joined James at the door. "Hey, guys… thanks."

"No problemo," James replied as the doors opened. Before departing, he looked at Abby. "I can come back later, if you'd like. Maybe I could show you my work station? I think you'd get a kick out of the omni-bow I told you about."

"I'd like that very much. Thank you," she replied, smiling still.

James grinned and nodded once, turning to leave with Steve.

Shepard's eyes lingered on the door for a short time before he turned and faced Abby. "So… how are you holding up?" he asked her, his weariness apparent in his voice.

She shrugged. "I'm well, truly. I've been learning a great deal."

"I know we don't know a lot about each other yet, but I take the responsibility of my crew very seriously, and it was with that in mind that I ordered the shutters closed," he explained. "I wasn't trying to hide information from you, Abby, I just wanted to ease you into things. I can imagine this is a lot to take in."

"I understand, Commander, and please, don't apologize. I know what it is to be accountable for others and I do appreciate your concern. I'd likely have done the same." She watched as he rubbed the back of his neck and sensed that he was still tense. "Commander, is your mission on Tuchanka complete?"

"It is."

"And was it successful?"

His lips drew into a firm line and he nodded once. "It was," he replied succinctly, "but not without cost."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. So," he continued slowly and she recognized he needed to speak of other things. "What did they show you while I was away?"

"Well, I've learned we're in outer space, an idea quite new to me, and that we're floating in a ship that's not sailing but flying. I now know there are many planets and many different people calling them home. I also spoke with EDI."

He blinked slowly. "I'd imagine that was, uh, rather unique."

She smiled. "To say the least," she agreed. "I meant it when I told you I lost my composure, Commander. I left this room and tried to use the, ah – Maker, what's it called? – oh yes, the elevator. EDI stopped me, or rather, she stopped it from working."

"Sounds like I missed quite a lot."

"Basically I behaved poorly, embarrassed myself a good deal, and your crewmen saved the day."

"Those two have a knack for that," he replied with a soft smile. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, and I'm glad Steve and James were here to help."

"As am I. Steve was very thoughtful, as was James. He's a good man."

"Steve or James?"

She averted her eyes for a moment. "Both. I meant both, of course."

With a nod, Shepard gestured to the couch and they both sat.

"I'm not always going to be available, so I'd like you to familiarise yourself with the crew. You also don't need to remain in this room at all times. You're not a prisoner. The reason I wanted you to stay here initially was because I didn't want you exposed to everything all at once. However, you seem to have taken what you've seen so far in your stride."

"Eventually, yes," she replied slowly with a smile.

"I've been trying to imagine how you must have felt when the guys opened the shutters. I think you're dealing with it really well, but I don't want any more shocks like that for you. I'm going to tell you a few things now, Abby, to prepare you for some of what you're going to see."

She sat up straight and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Okay. You're already aware that the Normandy is a ship that travels through space, and that we're at war. I know you're no stranger to battle yourself, but I want to reassure you that the Normandy is a very safe place to be. For the moment, the Normandy is not in direct conflict with our enemies. Rather, we transport people to war zones on planets, where the fight is."

"Like the planet you have just returned from," she stated.

"That's right. I also need to explain that the Normandy and its crew are part of an organisation called the Systems Alliance, which is based on my home planet, Earth. The Alliance is a human organisation. The race we're at war with is not human."

Again, she nodded, her expression thoughtful.

"However," he continued, "we're not at war with them _because_ they're not human. The Alliance has peaceful relations with several other non-human races and organisations. Some members of those races are aboard the Normandy, and are our allies." He watched her for a moment, wondering whether she would react negatively to that. He still knew very little about her background and had no idea whether she'd ever met a non-human life form.

She did not react negatively however, but smiled. "During the Blight, I encountered several people who were not human, and from an early age I was acquainted with the elves who worked at my family home."

"Elves?"

"Yes, they were employed as servants. As a child, I played with some of the staff's children. I have also encountered dwarves, wolf people, golems, abominations, and the darkspawn, who are corrupted humans, elves or dwarves."

"Not to mention, dragons," he commented as he sat back, appearing pensive. "Well. Maybe this won't be as difficult as I'd thought. I was a little concerned about you meeting the other species we have on board."

She dipped her head. "I cannot promise not to be surprised when we meet, particularly if those species are very different in appearance from us. However, I shall not scream and take to my bed," she said with a glint in her eye. "That would be discourteous, if nothing else."

He grinned, liking Abby more by the minute. "It sounds like you're ready, then. I have one particular person I'd like you to meet first. She's not that different from humans in terms of appearance. Except that she's, uh, blue, and has tentacles for hair. Otherwise, she looks just like you or me."

"Oh, is that all?" she joked, and Shepard laughed.

"That's all. Her name's Liara. She belongs to a race known as the Asari, who are a very peaceful, wise people. She's a good friend of mine and I think you two would get along and have a lot to talk about."

"I would very much like to meet her," she said enthusiastically.

"All right." Shepard looked up slightly. "EDI, I'd like to assign a security clearance to Abby."

"Proceed."

Shepard activated his omni-tool and entered a code. "Level five, with a slight alteration. Access to the shuttle bay only when Lieutenants Cortez or Vega are present."

"Should Lady Cousland have free access to your cabin, like Lieutenant Cortez?" asked the AI.

"No, EDI. Entry upon permission only, like the rest of the crew."

"Understood. Complete. Lady Cousland, you now have access to the Crew Deck, with the exception of private quarters, Life Support and the AI Core. Access to the shuttle bay when Lieutenants Cortez or Vega are present. Access to the Captain's Cabin."

"The Crew Deck?" Abby asked.

"We're on the Crew Deck now," answered Shepard. "This is where you'll find the crew when they're off-duty. There's also the med bay, Starboard Observation Lounge, the Mess–"

"There's a mess? A ship this astonishing must surely have someone who would clean for the crew?"

"No," he laughed. "It's called the Mess, but it's actually where we all eat."

"Oh!" she answered, looking confused, and Shepard gave her a kind smile.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but the Crew Deck isn't as huge as it sounds. The Normandy is a frigate and has a crew of 184 people. Between half and two-thirds of the crew are on duty at any given time, except at night, when a night shift operates. Sometimes the Mess and Crew Deck are virtually deserted, and at other times they're quite busy. Right now, there's a steady flow of people coming and going but there won't be a huge crowd in the Mess."

"I see," she replied thoughtfully. "So I can visit the Mess whenever I like?"

"You can," he confirmed, "but at first I'd like someone to accompany you so you don't get overwhelmed. There are also certain parts of the ship you don't have access to."

She held up a hand. "I understand completely, Commander. My only concern is, until I become accustomed to the ship's layout, that I might enter a restricted area without realising."

He shook his head. "That can't happen. Everyone on board the Normandy is assigned a security clearance. EDI is aware of each of them, and if you were to attempt to enter a restricted area, EDI would inform you and guide you to an alternative destination."

"I would also be pleased to recommend areas of interest aboard the ship which fall within the bounds of your security clearance," EDI stated.

Abby looked up, as Shepard had before. "Thank you," she said politely before looking back at Shepard.

"Only five crew members have the highest security clearance," he explained. "Me, Dr. Chakwas, Major Alenko, Chief Engineer Adams, and EDI, of course. We assign security clearances for security reasons, obviously, but also for people's safety. For example, I might have unlimited access to all areas of the ship, but I wouldn't go anywhere near the ship's engines, and the chief wouldn't allow me to, anyway."

"He wouldn't _allow_ you?" she asked in surprise.

Shepard nodded. "I'm the commanding officer of the Normandy, but Adams is in charge of Engineering, the doc is in charge of the med bay, and Joker flies the ship. I can direct them but I wouldn't dream of interfering with their duties and areas of expertise. I have complete confidence in my crew."

"Then I am not surprised that the Normandy is such a marvel," she commented, sitting slightly forward and glancing at the door. Shepard noticed this and looked in the same direction before smiling at her.

"Excited?" he asked, and she chuckled.

"I cannot deny a certain sense of… anticipation," she confessed.

"Well, would you like to accompany me to the Mess?" he offered, standing up. "How long has it been since you last ate?"

She also rose. "I'm not particularly hungry, but I would be glad to accompany you, Commander."

"One more thing," he said. "You're not under my command, so you don't need to keep calling me 'commander'. My name's Adam, or some just call me Shepard. Whichever you feel comfortable with."

"Well, if it wouldn't be inappropriate, I think I would prefer 'Adam'."

"It wouldn't be inappropriate at all. You were the one who insisted I call you Abby, after all."

She glanced up at him, finding he was smiling. "Oh, yes. I'd quite forgotten about that."

He gestured toward the door. "After you, Abby."

"Thank you, Adam," she replied, this time both of them smiling as they neared the exit.

The door slid open and Shepard gave an exaggerated groan when he saw that Lieutenant Cortez was standing outside.

"Hello, Abby," the pilot greeted before turning to Shepard, hands on hips. "Hello, Commander. I see you're still here. And _not_ resting."

Abby covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Hello, Steve."

"I was just going to take Abby to the Mess," explained the commander, but Cortez shook his head.

"Cabin. Now," he said sternly before winking at Abby. "I'll take her."

Shepard brought his forearm up to his chest. "I'll just let Liara know that you're coming to see her."

Before Shepard's omni-tool lit up, Steve thumbed behind himself. "I can do that. Elevator's _that_ way."

Shepard sighed and lowered his arm. "What was I just saying about my crew, Abby?"

"That you have complete confidence in them," she answered, feeling mischievous.

Shepard folded his arms. "Okay. This is a conspiracy. I know when I'm beat. I'll be back later to check on you," he said to Abby. "In fact, would you be willing to join me for breakfast? I was hoping we could talk about where you're from, but as I'm being sent to my room, I suppose it'll have to wait."

She laughed. "I will look forward to it. Good night."

"Yeah, _Goodnight,_ Commander," Steve added.

"Goodnight, _Lieutenant,"_ Shepard said to Cortez as he started to walk away. "Your insubordination has been noted. I'll come find you in the morning, Abby."

They waited until Shepard boarded the elevator before Steve hooked his arm. "Well, Abby, I hope I'll do as your escort."

"It would be my pleasure," she replied, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Steve smiled before activating his omni-tool. "Hello, Liara? It's Lieutenant Cortez. Are you free for a while? Shepard's guest would like to meet you."

"Oh, yes, of course!" said Liara through the device. "Would you like to meet somewhere, or shall I await you in my office?"

Steve considered that for a second, deciding that Abby might find the level of tech in Liara's office a bit too much. "We're on our way to the Mess. Why not join us there?"

"I'll be right there," Liara breathed, and Steve deactivated the omni-tool.

"Well, Abby, are you ready?"

"Please," she gushed, practically bouncing on her feet.

They took a leisurely stroll along the corridor and past the elevator, encountering a few crew members on the way, some of whom gave the couple a friendly nod, while one ensign saluted the lieutenant as he passed by. Abby returned their greetings with a bright smile and a 'good evening'."

Just as they were about to enter the Mess, Steve hesitated when he spotted Garrus striding towards them and glanced at Abby, wondering at her reaction.

"Hello, Lieutenant," said Garrus as he arrived in front of them. "Who's your friend?"

"Hey, Garrus," replied the pilot. "This is Abby, a guest of Commander Shepard."

Garrus's brow rose a little. "Oh? You're the lady they found on the Strip?"

She smiled graciously and nodded as she considered his physiology. He was like nothing she'd ever seen before, and yet, standing next to Steve and in such welcoming surroundings, she did not feel threatened in the least.

"Hey, I heard you brought a fascinating weapon aboard," Garrus went on excitedly, crossing his arms and leaning casually against a bulkhead. "You know, we should compare notes sometime. I'm an expert in long-range weapons myself. So's Shepard. Well, he _considers_ himself an expert but, between you and me, he's little more than an enthusiastic amateur and… I'm… guessing… I'm the first turian you've ever seen," he finished, realising he was rambling.

"Yes, ser, you are," she said genuinely, offering a finely-trembling hand to him. "It's an honour to make your acquaintance."

Garrus gently clasped Abby's hand and shook it before releasing it. "Are you _sure_ you're a friend of Shepard's? Because you're way too polite."

"He's kidding," Steve said. "I think."

"Yeah, think what you want, Cortez," Garrus joked before straightening up. "Well, I won't keep you. It was, uh, nice to make _your_ acquaintance, Abby. I hope we'll get chance to talk another time. You'll often find me hanging around here. Come say hello."

"Yes, yes I will," she replied, her eyes following the turian as he walked away.

"You okay?" Steve asked quietly. "Abby? Uh, Abby?"

Her head snapped around and she started to laugh. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to stare at him."

"I doubt he noticed," Steve said with a grin. "So, you just met your first alien. How do you feel?"

"I feel… fine," she answered calmly before leaning in a little closer and lowering her voice. "This is all quite exciting. And that gentleman, Garrus? He was very pleasant."

"He's one of Shepard's closest friends," said Steve. "Adam'll be pleased to hear you met him. Well, are you ready to meet Liara? She's just over there." He pointed out a table in the corner where Liara was seated, near to her office.

"She's beautiful," Abby whispered to Steve.

"Oh, she's gonna like _you,"_ laughed the pilot. "Come on."


	5. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby experiences a typical morning on the Normandy.

The following morning, Shepard called on Abby as promised, and they walked together to the Mess, which was almost empty.

"Where is everyone?" she asked as they took a seat at a table.

"I have a morning routine. I go for a run around the lower decks, shower, and then have breakfast in here when most of the crew have gone. Not that I don't want to mix with them, but usually it's the only quiet time I get."

"And I expect you would retire at a much later hour than the rest of the crew," she guessed.

"That's right. Except for last night, that is. I slept for ten hours straight. That's kind of a rare luxury."

"What'll it be, Commander?" asked Mess Sergeant Gardener from behind the counter. "The usual?"

"Just a minute, Rupert," he replied before facing Abby. "What do you normally eat for breakfast? What did you have yesterday?"

"Oh, I didn't partake of breakfast yesterday, as I was not very hungry. As for what I normally eat, well, not so long ago it was whatever scraps were left from the previous evening. If we were lucky, it was reheated stew. If we were _really_ lucky, we would breakfast at a tavern. I rather like bacon."

"Bacon, huh?" asked Shepard, looking over his shoulder. "The usual," he called out. "Twice. Oh, and some tea for my guest. Coffee for me."

"Tea?" spluttered Gardener. "Whad'ya think this is, Buckingham Palace?"

"Rupert," said Shepard sternly, "I'm sure you'll find some. _Quickly_."

"Yeah, yeah," answered the sergeant, muttering under his breath as he disappeared out back.

"I hope I'm not putting him to any trouble," Abby said anxiously, and Shepard shook his head.

"Not at all. He's a little cantankerous, but you'll get used to him. Maybe." He sat forward and clasped his hands together. "So, how was last night? I hear you met Garrus and had a long talk with Liara."

Abby's face lit up. "Yes, indeed. Liara was fascinated by my story. She's going to research the history of several planets to see if they match up with my own history."

"That's great, but I don't want you to get your hopes up."

"That's exactly what I told her, Shepard," Liara said, appearing behind the commander. "Abby is no fool and understands that the chances of finding anything of use are slim, but that will not stop me from trying. Oh… I hope I am not intruding on a private conversation," she added.

"Of course not," Shepard replied. "Join us."

"Oh, thank you." Liara pulled out another chair and sat down between them. "Good morning, Abby. Did you sleep well?"

"Considering I was so excited, I actually slept like a baby, thank you," she answered. "And how did you sleep, Liara?"

"Quite well, although I must confess that my mind was racing a mile a minute after we'd spoken. I practically leapt out of bed this morning… Shepard, why are you laughing?"

His face dropped and he sat up straight. "I wasn't _laughing._ I was smiling. There's a difference. I'm just not used to hearing such polite exchanges between two people."

"Well, you are going to have to get used to it," Liara chided before sharing a smile with Abby.

"I'd just like to say how grateful I am to you both," Abby began, and Shepard waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm also grateful that you let me 'borrow' Steve last night," she said to him. "I don't imagine you spend enough time together as it is."

He gave her a sideways glance, his mouth upturning slightly. "Figured that one out, did you?"

"It didn't take much figuring out," she said with a shrug. "Unless, of course, you allow all of your crew to order you to bed."

"I don't," he replied, his smile growing. "Anyway, speaking of your story, we haven't really had time to talk properly."

"I understand how busy you are, Com… Adam. Please do not trouble yourself."

"I actually have a couple of hours free this morning, so I thought we could finally have a real conversation. Maybe it'll help us figure out what you're doing here. If, of course, you don't mind repeating what you told Liara."

"Oh, no, I don't mind at all," she replied as Gardener approached their table, carrying a large tray.

"Waffles and bacon," he said, placing two plates in front of Shepard and Abby. "Waffles and bacon… here you go, ma'am. Coffee. Tea," he added, setting down two pots and cups. "Enjoy."

"Tea?" Liara asked brightly. "I was not aware there was any tea on board."

Gardener groaned. "I take it that means you want some, too?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Gardener sighed and walked away, while Abby studied her plate curiously. "Never had waffles before?" Shepard asked her.

She prodded one of the waffles with her fork and shook her head. "What are they?"

"Flour, a little salt, eggs, milk and butter, mixed together and fried. They go really well with bacon. In fact, it's illegal on nineteen planets to eat one without the other."

She watched him for a moment, finding nothing in his expression. "Is this the 'dry sense of humour' Steve warned me about?"

"Maybe," he shrugged before drizzling his meal with maple syrup. "Some wouldn't call it a sense of humour at all."

"Is… that also a legal requirement?" she asked, pointing to the syrup bottle, which he passed to her.

"Try it without, first," he advised, and she took a tentative bite, her expression brightening.

"I think you like waffles," he declared, and she nodded in agreement before looking behind Shepard.

"Oh, good morning, Garrus," she greeted.

"Hey, there," replied the turian, taking a seat opposite to Liara.

"Why don't you join us, Garrus?" Shepard asked with a smidgen of sarcasm, folding his arms.

"I… already did. So, everyone, what's shakin'?"

"Well, before we were interrupted, Abby was about to tell us about her life in Ferelden," Shepard replied, his brows raised.

"That wasn't very polite, was it?" Garrus drawled. "Whoever interrupted you, send them to me and I'll straighten them out." Ignoring the fact Shepard was shaking his head, Garrus turned to Abby. "Are you going to talk about your bow? I have to admit, after I'd spoken to you last night, I snuck down to the armory for a peek. You know, my people once used very similar weapons. I'd love the chance to–"

"Garrus, Abby isn't here to talk about her bow," Shepard interrupted.

"Tea," said Gardener, placing a pot and cup in front of Liara before glaring at Garrus. "Don't tell me _you_ want some as well?"

"No, I don't drink tea," Garrus replied. "I'll have some dextro paste. The blue one, if you have it."

"Why don't I just go check?" Gardener muttered, his voice growing quieter as he walked away. "Why they build a counter in here, when no one uses it, beats the hell outta me."

"Okay," Shepard said. "I think we're getting a little off-topic here. I have a bit of spare time, and I want to find out more about Abby. I'm sorry for all the interruptions," he said to her.

"I don't mind, really," she answered.

"Is that bacon I can smell?" asked someone from the far end of the Mess, and Abby giggled, noticing the look on Shepard's face.

"Welcome to the party, Kaidan," groused the commander. "In fact, is _anyone_ actually on duty today?"

"Well, sure, I'm on duty because you're not," the major replied as he neared the table. "I've always got time to appreciate the smell of Canadian bacon, though. Hey, Gardener," he called out. "How about some bacon and eggs?"

"And how about I shove a broom up my butt and sweep the floor while I'm at it," Gardener muttered acerbically from the back. "Not like I got anything else to do."

"I heard that, Sergeant," Shepard said. "If the job's getting too much for you, we can look into early retirement. As you spent most of your career with Cerberus, however, I don't imagine pension plans are high on their agenda."

"Be right with ya!" Gardener replied with false chirpiness, and Shepard rolled his eyes.

Kaidan grabbed a chair from a neighbouring table and squeezed in between Abby and Garrus. "Is that tea you have there?" he asked the ladies.

"I wouldn't," Garrus advised.

Kaidan gave the turian a puzzled look before shrugging. "Right. So, how are you settling in, Abby? It seems like you've made some new friends."

She smiled broadly at him and leaned forward, addressing the group. "I've been quite overcome by everyone's kindness. To be honest, when I realised I wasn't where I first believed, I was afraid, but despite not knowing why I'm here, I do know I'm surrounded by good people. I'm not scared and I have you all to thank for that."

"No problem," Shepard replied. "It's good to hear you feel more at ease."

"And you're a good person, too," Liara added.

"All right," Shepard said with a faint smile. "Now that half of the crew's here, why don't you tell us about Ferelden, Abby?"

For the next hour or so, Abby told her new friends about her childhood at Highever and a shortened history of the Grey Warden order. They listened in respectful silence, only speaking to commiserate her over the death of her parents, and when she told them something they didn't understand.

She was starting to recount her experiences during the Blight when Lieutenant Vega entered the Mess and did a double-take at them before approaching their table.

"Oh, hey. Morning, everyone. Morning, Abby."

"Lieutenant," said Shepard briskly.

"Good morning, James," Abby replied, straightening up a little.

"I, uh, just came up to grab a bite for me and Esteban," he explained. "We got an early start."

"I know that, James," said Shepard.

"Cool," replied the marine, who made no move toward the counter.

"Um, would you like to join us?" Abby invited after a slightly awkward pause. "I was just telling the others about the Blight."

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great, I mean, if that's okay with you, Commander?"

"Why not?" he said morosely, resting his head on his hand. "Just don't keep Steve waiting too long for his breakfast."

"Oh, I won't," promised James, and he borrowed a chair from a nearby table, sitting between Kaidan and Abby.

"Okay," Shepard resumed. "You were telling us about your crew."

Abby laughed. "I wouldn't exactly call them that. They were my friends. Well, mostly."

"Was there anyone… special?" asked James. "Like, you know, a boyfriend?"

"Isn't that a little personal?" Shepard rebuked.

"Hey, I didn't mean nothin'," James protested, his cheeks turning pink. "I just figured it'd be kinda sad if she had to leave someone behind, is all."

"It's quite all right," she answered. "No, there was no one like that."

"What about the rest of your companions?" asked Shepard.

"Well... I was quite close to Alistair. He and I were good friends."

"You mentioned him a few times. That's the guy who was the king's son?" Shepard asked, and James let out a whistle.

"Wow, you were best friends with a prince? Hell, that'd come in handy if you found yourself in a fix. You do somethin' wrong, he could just snap his fingers and it'd all be taken care of, no questions asked."

"James," Shepard interjected, meeting the lieutenant's eyes. "Why don't we let Abby tell us in her own words?"

Realising that was _not_ a request, James held his hands up. "Sorry, sir. Abby. Please. Go right ahead."

Abby smiled at James briefly before resuming. "He _was_ King Maric's son, yes, but he wasn't raised as a prince. You see, he was Maric's bastard and was leery of assuming the throne. Eventually, it was decided that Anora, wife to Maric's deceased son – Alistair's half-brother – would rule, and Alistair would continue as a warden."

Shepard nodded, and Abby took that as her cue to continue. "I travelled with quite an eclectic group of people, but they all had their own merits, some of which took longer to become apparent than others."

"How so?" Kaidan prompted.

"Morrigan," she said with a fond smile. "She was a swamp witch, daughter of Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds. She and I did not exactly hit it off immediately. Oh, and Alistair _loathed_ her. I often found myself stepping in to settle disputes between them. And, of course, there was Zevran. He tried to assassinate us, but we became firm friends."

From the corner of his eye, Shepard could see James's head darting back and forth between him and Abby, his eyes bulging, but he did not speak. Shepard firmly subjugated a smile and returned his attention to Abby.

"You would have liked Oghren," she said to James. "He also liked a drink."

"Huh?"

"Well, Steve told me that you and he sometimes drink well into the night."

"Nah, it ain't nothin' but a little snifter, you know?" James claimed, fidgeting in his chair.

"Not what I heard," Garrus teased.

"Hey, it's just to help us unwind at the end of a long day," James defended. "Nothin' wrong with that."

"Of course not," Abby answered calmly, her eyes briefly moving to Shepard, who covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes dancing. "Then there was Wynne. She was a mage, as was Morrigan."

"A mage?" Shepard asked. "What's that?"

"Oh, forgive me," she said, searching for the right words. "They were humans or elves who were born with the ability to command the elements. Not everyone treated mages as favourably as they deserved, partly because their powers were feared. Most of them resided in towers, away from the rest of society, and were guarded by an order of holy warriors called the Templars."

"What kind of powers did the mages have?" asked Liara.

"I don't claim to know how it worked, but Morrigan could shoot thunderbolts from her fingertips, and Wynne could surround us all in a protective blue light."

"Hey, Loco, Liara and the major can do the blue light thing!" gushed James before his words were cut dead by a withering glare from Shepard. "Oh, right, I wasn't s'posed to… shit. I-I mean… rats. Oh, crap," he stammered, springing out of his chair, his face so red it looked ready to combust.

"Maybe _now_ would be a good time to get that breakfast, Lieutenant," Shepard advised sternly, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah. That's exactly what I was thinkin'. Uh… sorry, Abby, for what I said."

"I have heard much worse than that," she replied kindly. "I have a brother. At least… I hope he still lives."

"Tell us about him," Shepard said softly, reminded of his conversation with Chakwas and Mordin, and that he would need to tell Abby about their findings soon. James quickly moved to the counter, though he continued to watch the others.

"I will," she said with a hesitant smile as she looked around the table, "but now I am curious. Are you all mages?"

"I'm not, if it helps," offered Garrus.

At that moment, Shepard's omni-tool glowed and he touched it. "Excuse me, Abby. Shepard here."

"It's Specialist Traynor, Commander. I'm sorry to bother you, but you're needed in the CIC."

"On my way," he replied before deactivating the device. "I'm sorry, Abby, but I need to take care of this."

"That's quite all right," she replied as he stood up. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's kind of you to offer, but I'll handle it. James," he called across the room. "I have to go. Stay here with Abby until I get back."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Shepard told Abby. "Just relax for a bit. I'm sure James will show you around."

"Please, do not hurry for my sake. Maker watch over you."

"Thanks," he replied before quickly exiting the Mess.

"All right," said Kaidan, also standing up, "let's break this up. Commander might need us in a bit."

Everyone at the table rose and Liara, Kaidan and Garrus said goodbye to Abby, promising to talk soon. She answered them politely, her eyes still on where the commander had left, when James arrived at her side.

"He'll be fine," he reassured her before activating his omni-tool. "Hey, Esteban? Shepard was just called to the CIC."

"Okay, I'll run a pre-flight check just in case. Thanks for the heads-up. Cortez out."

"Will the commander be going on another mission?" Abby asked James.

"I dunno for sure, but when he's called to the CIC, it's pretty likely he'll be going somewhere. I guess we'll find out soon enough. I'm slated to join him on his next two missions. We take it in turns so we all get a fair piece of the action."

"But does the commander go on _every_ mission?" she asked in dismay.

"Oh, yeah, that's just how he rolls. He wouldn't ask any of us to do somethin' he wouldn't do himself." Sensing her anxiety, he bumped his arm against hers. "Hey, the commander's an N7. They don't get any better than that."

"The number on his chest," she commented thoughtfully. "Is it a badge of honour?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. N7s are an elite group of marines who've received specialised training. There's nothin' they haven't seen or can't handle. As a matter of fact, I've been recommended for the N7 program myself," he said with a casual shrug.

She looked up at him. "That's quite impressive. You must be very proud of yourself."

"Ah, well, I, uh," he mumbled, tutting loudly when his omni-tool glowed.

"Garrus. James. Report to the hangar immediately. Steve–"

"Already on it, Commander."

"Good job, Lieutenant. James, bring Abby with you. Shepard out."

"Let's go," said James, his tone more sober as they started to walk toward the elevator. "Hey, you can see my work station."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she offered.

"Well, the commander's allowed you to be in the shuttle bay, so it can't hurt. We'll see what we can find. I'm guessin' you're bored out of your brain sittin' in that lounge all day."

They reached the elevator, and James stepped aside to allow her to enter first. "Shuttle Bay," he said once they were inside.

"I'm not exactly bored," she explained, "but I'm not accustomed to standing idle when my friends are in need."

"So, uh, is that what you consider us? Your friends?" he asked softly.

"I hope so," she replied, twisting her fingers together. "You have all been so kind, and I very much enjoy your company."

"Ditto."

"D… um, I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, hell, I gotta stop doin' that!" he laughed. "Sorry. I meant, well, we feel the same way about you. All of us, I mean. The crew."

She smiled and looked at the floor, and the elevator seemed to take forever to reach the shuttle bay. When it did, James exited first. "Just to warn you, it's _huge_ in here."

She stepped out and her eyes immediately went upwards, her mouth falling open. James stood at her side, waiting patiently until she'd collected herself.

"You are a master of understatement, James."

"Hah, yeah, I don't get called _that_ every day. More like a master of bull… uh, the other way round. Hey, you wanna see my work station? I gotta get suited up."

"Oh? Are we attending a soirée?"

"A what?"

"A social gathering?"

"No, I gotta put my armor on," he clarified.

"Oh dear, how embarrassing," she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

"Hey, you got nothin' to be embarrassed about," he reassured her. "You can't be blamed for not understandin' when all I do is talk shi… uh… _nonsense_. Wow, that was a big word for me. Think I'll need to lie down when I get back."

She hung her head, her shoulders quaking with laughter, and James grinned. "It's real nice to see you laugh, Abby. You've been through a lot."

"You remind me of Alistair," she chuckled before sighing. "His sense of humour. He always knew just what to say when I was feeling low."

"You must really miss him," he guessed quietly.

"I miss all of them," she replied just as Lieutenant Cortez jogged past them.

"Hey, Abby! Welcome to the Shuttle Bay!" he greeted with a friendly wave. "Sorry I can't stop to chat, but I gotta get my bird ready. I'll catch you in you a bit, okay?"

"Yes, of course! Good morning!" she replied before Steve disappeared inside the Kodiak. She looked around the hangar, then, appearing confused.

"You okay?" asked James.

"Steve mentioned a bird, but I don't see one."

"Oh! No, he means that," he said, pointing to the blue shuttle craft.

"What is it?" she asked.

"That's the Kodiak. It's what we used to bring you here from the Citadel without showing you outer space," he explained. "Only we didn't bring you through the hangar, 'cos of the size of the place. Didn't wanna stress you out even more."

"Of course, I remember now." She took a few steps closer to the craft. "Does it have an engine, then, like the Normandy?"

"Yeah. In fact, it's kind of a mini Normandy. You can get about a dozen people in there, but normally it's less. Esteban's getting it ready to drop us somewhere."

"But why not go in the Normandy?" she questioned. "Wouldn't you be safer that way?"

James shook his head. "To put it simply, the Normandy's huge, and the Kodiak can get us into places unseen, if you know what I mean. So, for certain things, it's actually safer than the Normandy."

"Oh," she replied, nodding. "Does Joker fly the Kodiak as well?"

"No, ma'am," he laughed. "Not a chance. The Normandy's Joker's baby, and the Kodiak's Esteban's. I can fly it, too, but… kinda not while Esteban draws breath sort of thing, y'know?"

She smiled. "I take it he's quite possessive of his 'bird', then?"

"Hell, yeah. Even Shepard wouldn't get a look in. And Joker? Forget about it! Esteban's the best. Don't tell him I said that, though."

She nodded. "So, Est- I mean, Steve is in charge of the Kodiak. What are your duties, James?" she asked.

He straightened up, his chest puffing out. "I'm the Arms Master, in charge of weapons and armor for the entire crew."

"The entire crew of 184 people?" she gasped.

"Well, not _every_ single one. And Esteban helps out sometimes," he confessed, his tone hushed.

"I understand," she laughed, just as the bay door opened and Garrus entered.

"We just changed course," the turian informed James. "Looks like we're headed to Kypladon in the Silean Nebula."

"Kypladon?" James repeated with a frown as Garrus moved to his foot locker. "What's there?"

"I think I can hazard a guess where we're going," Steve called from inside the Kodiak. "Time to suit up, James."

"I'm on it," he answered before facing Abby. "Wanna give me a hand?"

"I'd be pleased to," she agreed, glad to be useful.

James led her to his foot locker, where he crouched down and removed several pieces of armor, laying them on the bench to his side. "Careful," he warned. "Some of those are pretty heavy." When he'd finished, he stood up, amazed to see that Abby had arranged the pieces in the correct order, and was holding out his foot plates.

"Alistair also wore heavy plate, and I would assist him to don it before battle," she explained. "Yours is not very different, except the material is much lighter."

He stared at her for a moment, his mouth agape, before he quickly shook his head and took the foot plates from her. "What was his armor made of?"

"His first mail was crafted from bone and leather, but later he acquired a suit of steel."

"Steel?" he exclaimed. "That musta weighed a freakin' ton!"

"Not quite, but almost," she said with a grin, reaching for his greaves.

James nodded before looking at one of his hands, examining his fingernails intently. "So… Alistair musta been pretty ripped, huh?"

"Ripped?"

"Uh, you know, muscular?"

"I suppose so," she said thoughtfully, "although I never saw him disrobed. He was quite broad across the back, though, and he dwarfed you in terms of height."

"Really? How tall was he?"

"About six inches taller than you," she replied, and James's shoulders sagged a little. "Although… he wasn't _quite_ as broad across the back as you."

"Oh, okay," he mumbled nonchalantly, bouncing a little.

"James! Less of the chatter! Shepard'll be here soon," Cortez advised, poking his head out of the Kodiak's hatch as Garrus climbed aboard, a huge sniper rifle strapped to his back. "You wanna explain to him why you're not ready?"

"All right!" he shouted back before lowering his voice. "I better hurry." He took another piece of his armor from Abby and strapped it on. In less than two minutes, he was fully suited-up. "Thanks for the help," he said to her.

"You're welcome," she replied as they approached the Kodiak, where they waited outside. "Do you know why the commander wanted me here? Am I to accompany you?"

"I doubt that," he scoffed, startling when Garrus tapped his shoulder.

"You _might_ want to think about taking a weapon with you, Vega," the turian pointed out, nodding at a large rack on the far wall. "I'm good, but I wasn't aware Shepard wanted me to act as your bodyguard."

"Yeah, I was gettin' round to that," James muttered irately, his face blood red. "Come on, Abby. I'll show you my work station while we get a chance."

Just as James was selecting a firearm, the bay doors opened and Shepard strode in with Traynor at his side. "You ready, James?" asked the commander, heading straight for his foot locker, where he proceeded to unload his own armor.

"Yes, sir," answered the marine. "What'll you be taking?"

"Viper," he ordered as he removed his boots and started to strap on his leg plates. "Abby, this is Specialist Traynor."

"It's great to meet you," said the specialist enthusiastically, reaching for Abby's hand.

"Steve," Shepard called out, "we're in orbit over Cyone. You should have the co-ordinates for the fuel depot on the northern continent."

"Yes, sir, I have them. Course laid in."

Realising how short time was, Abby decided against offering to help Shepard with his armor and waited patiently until he'd finished issuing orders. James assisted Shepard with the final pieces of his armor and handed the commander his weapon before nodding at Abby and boarding the Kodiak with Garrus.

"Right," Shepard began. "Abby, Traynor is going to give you a proper tour of the Normandy, or at least the places you have access to. After that, I'd like you to visit Dr. Chakwas. She's working alongside Liara in the hope that they'll find some answers about why you're here. I'd like you to be on hand in case they have any questions. Is that okay?"

"Of course," answered Abby with a glance at Traynor. "Are you the commander's squire?" she asked the specialist, who gave a confused smile.

"No, she's…" Shepard paused, trying to find an adequate description of Traynor's duties. "She sees to all the little things that would wind up becoming very big things if they're not taken care of. We don't have that problem with Traynor, however," he complimented. "I guess she's the seneschal of the ship," he said, remembering Abby's mention of the steward of Highever.

Abby dipped her head in Traynor's direction. "Then you play a vital role in the Normandy's operation."

Shepard nodded. "That she does."

"Ready when you are, Commander," Cortez prompted.

"I have to go," said Shepard, moving toward the Kodiak. "We'll talk again when I return." He hopped aboard and slapped the side of the vessel twice before disappearing as the hatch closed.

"Be careful," Abby whispered.

"We should leave now, Abby," advised Traynor, "as Lieutenant Cortez needs to open the external doors."

Abby blinked and followed Traynor out of the hangar, venturing a quick glance over her shoulder before the doors closed.


	6. Playing the Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and James's away mission almost goes badly awry, and Abby learns more about tech and biotics, as well as her connection to Shepard.

**Med Bay**

Liara and Abby were seated at a console while Dr. Chakwas stood behind them, watching with interest as several images flashed up on the screen.

"What are you looking for?" asked the doctor.

"Abby and I have discussed Ferelden and her culture in great detail," Liara said over her shoulder. "This is a database of non-indigenous artefacts discovered on Council planets."

"Non-indigenous?"

"In other words, items which have no apparent use or function on the planets on which they were found, which may indicate that they were used by ancient civilizations. Abby has been most helpful in identifying some of the artifacts."

"Oh?" said Chakwas. "Does that mean they might be from her civilization?"

Liara shook her head. "Not necessarily, only that Abby is familiar with certain things, such as cooking implements or weapons, which would otherwise remain a mystery to us. I have learned a great deal from her."

"Stop," Abby directed, touching Liara's arm, and Liara paused the display on an image of a small orb, crafted from exquisite silver filigree.

"Do you recognize that?" Liara asked.

"Yes, it's a pomander."

"Would you spell that for me, please?" asked Liara, and Chakwas leaned forward for a better look as Abby provided the correct spelling for Liara's records.

"What was it used for?" the doctor asked, and Abby smiled up at the other woman.

"That's a very fancy one," she said with fondness in her voice. "My grandmother owned a very similar one. They were filled with fragrant herbs or dried flowers and carried about the person. They could be part of a lady's toilette, or used for medicinal purposes. For the relief of a head cold, for example, they were filled with camomile or eucalyptus."

"Fascinating," whispered Chakwas before grabbing a nearby chair and sitting next to the two women. "What else have you discovered?"

"Abby has identified several different items and weapons," said Liara. "I have compiled a new database containing those items that are familiar to her. It does not mean that they came from her civilization, but it greatly narrows down our search and provides an accurate frame of reference. It is encouraging that Abby recognizes any of these items, as it means that some, if not several civilizations similar to her own exist, or existed in antiquity."

"We'll get to the bottom of it, Abby," reassured Chakwas, patting the blonde woman's hand.

"Thank you for doing this," Abby said to both women.

"No, thank _you,"_ Liara countered. "Without your help, many of these items would have remained a mystery. I cannot tell you how excited I am by these new discoveries."

"You've made a friend for life there, Abby," the doctor laughed before standing up, her omni-tool glowing. She activated it. "Chakwas."

"Lieutenant Cortez here," said the shuttle pilot, his voice strained. "I'm about fifty klicks away from the Normandy and I got people needing medical attention."

"Details, Lieutenant," Chakwas asked soberly as the other two women looked up in concern.

"Shepard and Vega, ma'am. They inhaled radioactive gas at the depot. Sending you the analysis of a sample of the gas now. Shepard's doing okay and can walk, but James is in pretty bad shape. I've stabilized him but he's gonna need your help. Shepard busted a couple of ribs as well, but I fixed them."

"What about you and Garrus?"

"We're okay. I was in the Kodiak, and Garrus doesn't seem to be affected."

Her omni-tool pinged. "Analysis received, Lieutenant. I'll be ready for them. Chakwas out." She entered a quick command into her omni-tool. "Major Alenko, this is Dr. Chakwas. Shepard's party is on its way back, ETA three minutes. Lieutenant Vega is seriously incapacitated and Shepard was also injured. Please meet them in the shuttle bay."

"On my way," Kaidan immediately replied. "How bad, Doc?"

"Cortez informs me that Vega and Shepard have inhaled radioactive gas. It's treatable, but from the sound of it, Lieutenant Vega may be out of action for a few days at least. I won't know for certain until I've examined him."

"Got it. Okay, I'll let you get ready. Alenko out."

"Ladies, will you excuse me?" Chakwas requested, turning back to face Liara and Abby, who were already on their feet.

"Of course," Liara said, heading for the door, while Abby remained rooted to the spot.

"Abby, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave as well," said Chakwas before noticing the look of anguish on her face.

"What's wrong with them?" Abby asked the doctor. "Why is James seriously incapacitated? What did you say? Radio…?"

Chakwas stepped closer to Abby and laid a hand on her arm. "They were exposed to a toxic substance. James's exposure was greater than Shepard's, and he will therefore require more intensive treatment, but both of them will be fine after a few days' rest."

Abby's posture relaxed slightly, Chakwas's poise and confidence reassuring her. "Can I help in any way?" she asked.

"The best thing we can do is leave the doctor to do her job," Liara advised, arriving behind Abby. "She really is very good at what she does."

Abby nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, I understand. May I wait outside?" she asked, nodding toward the window.

"By all means," replied Chakwas, who'd already activated her omni-tool and was examining a screen full of information.

"Come on," Liara instructed, and Abby followed her out, the two ladies positioning themselves next the window.

After several minutes, raised voices were heard from the vicinity of the elevator. Shortly after, Shepard and Garrus strode through the Mess and into the med bay, keeping the doors open for the other three.

Kaidan and Cortez then emerged from around the corner, both of them supporting James, who appeared to be unconscious, his feet dragging behind him as his friends struggled to hold him up. Neither Shepard nor Vega were wearing helmets, and from her vantage point, Abby could see that Shepard was sweating profusely, while James's face was puce.

"Get him in! Quickly!" Shepard ordered hoarsely, and the doors slid closed as Abby and Liara looked on.

Inside, James was hauled onto a bed, Shepard clutching its side to steady himself, and Cortez grabbed his arm, steering him to the next bed, where he sat down.

"Thank you, gentlemen," said the doctor as she stood over James, her omni-tool working. "Garrus, I'll need you to remain here."

"No, we'll get out of your way, Doctor," said the turian. "I'm fine. Take care of those two first, and I'll be back later. I know you won't let me get away without an examination."

"Don't think I'll forget," she replied as the major and Garrus exited the med bay, joining Abby and Liara by the window.

"How did you end up inhaling the gas, Commander?" Chakwas asked, not taking her eyes off James. "I thought your suits have warning systems built into them?"

"Yeah, they do," Shepard said, surprising her with his angry tone, "but warning systems are only effective if they're _acknowledged._ James and I both got a warning that the scrubbers in our helmets were reaching saturation, but he ignored it because there were 'just a couple more marauders to take care of'."

"He _what?"_ Steve exclaimed, rubbing Shepard's back when he broke into a coughing fit.

"I had to haul his ass out of there when we should have been helping Captain Riley and Garrus, who were nearly overwhelmed by Reaper troops," Shepard spluttered. "We were damn lucky."

"So that was what all the shouting over the comm. was about?" Steve asked, and Shepard nodded before coughing again, wincing as he clutched his ribs.

"Commander," Chakwas began, moving to Shepard's bed.

"No, take care of him," Shepard rasped, pointing at James. "I want him fit and healthy, because I want him to _feel_ it when I tear him a new asshole!"

"Take it easy," Steve gently urged.

"He jeopardized the entire mission with his recklessness," Shepard went on, his face reddening, and laid a hand on his chest, panting. "First he crashes the Kodiak, and now this?"

"Adam, _please,"_ Steve whispered and Shepard looked up at him, seeing the anxiety in the pilot's eyes. He shook his head but ended his tirade, knowing how much Steve worried about him.

"All right," he huffed, deciding to save his harsh words for another time.

With Dr. Chakwas's examination complete, she administered a remedy to James before moving to Shepard's side. "Hold still," she ordered, and Shepard felt a chill come over him as she treated him. "You'll need to rest up for a day or two," she advised him.

"What about James?" Cortez asked with a glance at the stricken marine. "Shouldn't he have come round by now?"

Silently, Chakwas moved to James's bed, concern marring her brow as she examined his read-out.

"James?" Shepard said, standing up and moving to the doctor's side. "Doc? What is it?"

She gave no answer and frowned at her screen as Steve joined them at the bedside. He looked up, catching Abby's eye through the window, and gave her a grim smile before turning his attention back to James.

"Come on," Shepard urged, firmly patting James's cheek with his hand. "James!" he said more loudly, his worry obvious.

"Hey, Loco," croaked James, his eyes opening a crack. "So you do care, after all."

Shepard gave an exasperated sigh and pushed away from the bed, turning away from James, while Steve folded his arms, shaking his head.

"Good to have you back, Lieutenant," Chakwas said.

"Thanks, Doc. It's good to be back."

"I'll be in my cabin," Shepard ground out as he headed for the door. "I have reports to write. Steve, stay here with James. I'll be down later to help out with the Kodiak."

"Commander, I want to see you again before the end of the day," said Chakwas. "And you are not cleared for combat for the next thirty-six hours at least."

"Right," Shepard mumbled as the door opened.

"That's an order, Commander. I'll re-evaluate your condition tomorrow evening."

He sighed and turned back slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

 _You okay?_ Cortez mouthed and Shepard gave him a nod before stepping out into the Mess, quickly finding himself surrounded.

"How's he doing?" Kaidan asked.

"Okay, but he'll be out of action for a bit," Shepard replied before noticing Abby. "He'll be fine," he assured her, his anger slowly dissipating. "Abby, I need to go and take care of a few things, but can we meet up later? I'll come find you when I'm ready."

"Are you all right?" she asked, and he nodded.

"I'm okay. Stay with Liara for now, and we'll talk later."

"I will," she agreed.

"Shepard, Abby and I have made some progress in our search," Liara informed him. "When you have recovered, and feel ready, I would like to share our findings with you."

"Tell you what," Shepard said to the two women, "why don't you join me for supper in my cabin. It'll be quieter there. Nineteen hundred hours."

"We'll be there," Liara replied.

"Garrus, Kaidan, with me," Shepard instructed, and the men followed him out of the Mess. "Garrus, I need you in the armory today. Steve'll be on his own for a couple of days, so get everything straightened up down there."

"Leave it to me," Garrus assured him.

"Kaidan, you okay to hold the fort for a while longer?"

"You bet, Commander. As long as you need."

"Thanks."

Abby watched them leave and released a quiet sigh. "I feel so useless, Liara," she confessed. "I wish there was something I could do to help. I'm not used to this, just standing around, watching from the sidelines. Adam seems to have the world on his shoulders."

"His job is not an easy one, but he is made of strong stuff, and has a fine crew who support and respect him. And you're helping more than you can imagine," the asari reassured her. "Let's go to my office. I think you're ready to see it. There, we can access much more information than we can anywhere else on the ship. And that way, we'll have something concrete to present to Shepard later. How does that sound?"

Abby glanced back at the window, and saw that Steve was assisting James out of his armor just as the window shutters started to close. "All right," she agreed. "Anything to keep my mind busy."

~o~O~o~

When the ladies arrived at Shepard's cabin, Abby was relieved to see that Adam was more relaxed than he'd been earlier that day, and that he'd been resting. He invited them to make themselves at home and to help themselves to drinks and the canapés he'd had sent up. After some questions about Shepard and James's health, Liara cut to the chase and started to show Shepard some of the images she and Abby had been studying.

" _That's_ a nice shield," he commented, admiring a particularly fine artefact. "It'd look great on my wall, don't you think, Abby?"

Liara folded her arms. "Shepard, that piece is the property of the War Museum on Ontarom. And, before you ask, I do not think the proprietor of the facility would be prepared to 'cut a deal' with you."

"But you could put a good word in for me, right, Doc?" Shepard asked earnestly with a quick sideways glance at Abby, who was by now starting to understand his sense of humor, so said nothing.

"Absolutely not!" protested the asari. "I have a reputation within the scientific community and… oh. You are joking, aren't you?"

"Had you going there, didn't I?"

Liara shook her head before noticing that Abby was doing her best not to laugh. "I see you share Shepard's love of deadpan delivery, Abby. One would think that after three years on a human ship, I would have learned by now."

"Too easy, T'Soni," Shepard teased with a nudge to Liara's arm, and she shook her head again, finally smiling.

"If you two have finished ganging up on the asari," she replied with wide eyes, "I would quite like to continue."

Shepard discreetly thumbed at Liara, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated way, and Abby covered her mouth with her hand.

"I saw that, Shepard," Liara reprimanded.

"Uh-oh. Busted," Shepard grinned and Abby laughed, delighted to be a part of things. "Okay," he said. "Show me what you've found."

"Well, see for yourself," said Liara, instructing her omni-tool to show several images of different artefacts. "Abby has identified a number of items I had never even heard of, as well as many items of clothing, weapons, tools, cooking utensils and so on."

"You used all of those things?" he asked Abby.

"I used similar things," she clarified. "It is obvious to me that they do not originate from Ferelden, but it is encouraging that those items were in use on other planets."

"How do you know they weren't used in Ferelden?" Shepard asked.

"The design and make of them are not quite right. And as for the shields, for example, I do not recognize the devices upon any of them."

"Devices?"

Abby glanced at Liara, who brought up the image of the shield Shepard had admired. "This design, here," Abby said, pointing out an emblem of two crossed swords. "Each noble family, each order or military unit, had its own device which would be painted or engraved upon their shields to identify them. So far, I have not recognized any of the devices Liara has shown me."

Shepard leaned in closer to the screen and frowned, falling silent for a minute.

"What are you thinking, Shepard?" asked Liara.

"Can you draw, Abby?"

"Why, yes," she said with a smile. "I don't know if I'm any good, but I used to enjoy painting and line drawing."

Shepard matched her smile with his own. "Liara, I think it's about time Abby had an omni-tool."

"You… want me to wear one of those things?" exclaimed Abby in dismay. "But I wouldn't know where to start!"

"An excellent suggestion, Shepard," Liara chimed in. "Abby, I will show you how to use it. You do not need to learn _everything,_ but you will be able to communicate with it."

"And draw," Shepard added, remembering the image he'd once created of his vision of Abby which, he now realised, he hadn't saved.

"Well… I suppose I could," Abby mumbled uncertainly, "if you're sure I would be able to use it."

"You will have no problem assimilating an omni-tool," Liara declared confidently.

Abby raised her right arm and examined it closely, her brow wrinkling, and Liara and Shepard exchanged a glance.

"I am sorry, Abby," said Liara. "This is all… normal to us. You don't _have_ to use an omni-tool. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I also apologize," Shepard added. "I didn't consider how unusual this must be for you."

"No, it's all right," Abby replied. "I know that you would not do anything to harm me. I was merely… surprised. I do not fully understand how the omni-tool works. It's such a strange object to me."

"Well, I'll tell you," Shepard offered. "Short version. The omni-tool can be activated and used by voice or touch alone. You've probably seen some of us pressing buttons on it or speaking directly into it." He glanced at Abby, who nodded. "It can also be activated by moving the hand in a certain way," he added, wiggling his fingers to demonstrate, "Although that takes practise and it's not entirely necessary anyway."

"Oh, I see," she mumbled with a slightly embarrassed laugh. "I had thought that they were magical."

"Ah," said Shepard. "Is this to do with the discussion we had in the Mess? When you thought we were… uh…?"

"Mages," Liara finished.

Abby sat forward, an excited gleam in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the other two. "And… are you?"

Shepard shook his head. "Not exactly, at least not in the way you think. We can't command the elements and there's nothing 'magical' about us. We do have certain powers, though. And I want to make it clear that there's nothing dangerous about them, unless they're used in a combat situation."

"What kind of powers?" asked Abby, barely able to contain her excitement. "What can you do?"

"Well, let me see." Shepard pointed to the far end of his cabin. "Watch that coffee cup on my desk."

He concentrated hard, a faint blue glow emanating from his hands, and Abby watched in amazement as the cup slowly rose a few feet into the air before returning to its original spot.

"Oh, well done, Adam!" she exclaimed.

Liara stood up and moved next to Shepard, shaking her head in pity. "The poor commander probably needs a lie-down after that. I will show you how it's _really_ done."

"Show-off," Shepard teased.

With little effort, Liara again levitated the cup, but this time she moved it through the air, across the cabin and towards Abby, who tentatively picked it out of the air. "That's incredible!" she said with a huge grin. "How do you do it? I have seen magic and spells but never before have I seen such finesse, such control of one's powers!"

"It is something certain people are born with," Liara explained, "like your mages. We are known as biotics. My people, the asari, are born with biotic capabilities, while other races, humans included, develop biotic powers after exposure to a compound known as element zero."

"And who is best?" Abby asked.

"The asari," they replied together.

"Humans need a little help," Shepard elaborated, turning his back on Abby and pointing to the nape of his neck. She squinted and leaned in closer, spotting a tiny metallic stud which protruded slightly out of Shepard's skin. "That's a biotic amp," he explained, turning back to her. "Humans and other races besides the asari have implants to magnify their powers, but even with that, no race comes close to the asari. They're the best."

"So is everyone here a biotic?" Abby asked, and Liara shook her head.

"All asari are biotics, but there are very few human biotics, and even fewer among other races. Shepard and Major Alenko are the only human biotics aboard the Normandy. I am the only asari here. There are no other biotics on board at present."

Abby shook her head in admiration.

"I remember you mentioning that mages weren't always treated well by some people," Shepard said. "I'm guessing you weren't one of those people. There are some who still view biotics with suspicion."

"I judge a person by their actions, not their abilities or appearance," she stated firmly.

Liara sat down next to Abby and smiled. "You do not need to tell us that. We already knew."

Shepard grinned at the two ladies before sitting back and crossing his legs. "So, Abby. You think you can handle an omni-tool?"

"Yes, I think I can handle it," she replied with cautious enthusiasm.

"Come along, then," Liara said. "I will show you how to use the onmi-tool, and you can use it to draw some of the devices you spoke of. We will see if we can find any matches."

The ladies rose, quickly followed by Shepard, and Abby dipped her head. "Thank you for inviting me into your cabin, Adam, and for supper."

"But you haven't touched a thing!" he protested.

"Ah, I fear my upbringing is to blame," she smiled. "A lady never eats between meals."

"Then take a doggy bag with you," he offered. She pulled a face, and he laughed. "I mean I could wrap up some food for you to take with you. It's just a nickname. No dogs are consumed aboard the Normandy, I can assure you," he added, folding his hands behind his back and assuming a stiff posture.

She smiled warmly at him, and he grinned back at her. "No, I am quite replete, but thank you all the same," she replied. "I am certain that Steve will be pleased to assist with the food."

"You got that right," he joked.

Liara moved to Shepard's side and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Shepard."

"Nite, Liara." He drew back from the asari and frowned. "Actually… Liara, would you go and set up Abby's omni-tool? There's something I need to discuss with her in private."

"Oh, I don't mind if Liara stays," Abby said.

Shepard rubbed his forehead. "This is something personal, Abby. If you want to tell Liara afterwards, then you're free to, but I'd like you to have the choice."

"I will see you in my office, Abby," said Liara, already heading for the door.

"Thanks Liara." Shepard waited until she'd departed before gesturing to the couch, and Abby re-took her seat.

"This sounds serious, Adam."

He sighed and also sat on the couch, leaving a small gap between them. "I should have told you about this sooner, but with everything else you've had to wrap your head around, well, I didn't know when would be the right time. I don't want to keep this from you any longer."

"Very well," she said solemnly, mentally preparing herself.

"Okay… without going into too much detail, Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Solus – when he was alive – made a discovery that's quite hard to believe." He took a deep breath. "They discovered that… well, that you and I are related. We share a common ancestor."

She stayed quiet for a few moments before bursting into laughter. "Adam, that is quite a joke, but there is no one else here for you to waggle your eyebrows at."

"I'm not joking, Abby," he said seriously, and her face dropped.

"But… I don't understand. How can that be? How could you possibly know that?"

"We have the ability to trace another person's DNA," he explained.

"DNA?"

"DNA is the building blocks of who we are. You know how children look like their parents? Well, that's DNA. The parent passes their DNA down to their children, and so on."

He looked at her and, seeing that her smile had completely disappeared, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Abby. I wanted to explain this to you without using a bunch of scientific jargon. It's a very complicated science, and I don't claim to understand it all that much. The doctors, however – particularly Dr. Solus – do… did understand it. You and I have something in our makeup which proves that we're related. Liara or Dr. Chakwas could probably explain it better than I have. I guess I'm asking you to trust me on this."

"I do trust you," she mumbled, "but this is…" She shook her head, unable to find the words.

"I know," he said softly. "I didn't quite believe it myself, but they showed me proof. There's no way they'd lie to me and there's no mistake."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Abby glanced at him. "What does it all mean? And… how are we related?"

"I'm not sure what it means, Abby, but I'm thinking more and more that your arrival here was no accident. And, according to Dr. Chakwas, I'm descended from one of your siblings."

"But… I only have a brother," she replied, her eyes brimming with tears, "and his family was destroyed."

He nodded and laid a hand on her arm. "I remember you telling us. Abby, this means that your brother must have gone on to have more children."

"You mean he-he survived the Blight? Remarried?"

"It looks like it," he said, reaching for a tissue box when a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Thank you," she stammered, taking a tissue and dabbing at her eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said apologetically.

"No, no… I thought he must have perished, but… are you certain of this?"

He nodded and reached for her hand. "We have the technology to determine this. Your brother survived the Blight."

They sat together for a time, each with their own thoughts. After a while, Abby released Shepard's hand and reached for a canapé. "I have decided to break the rules," she explained.

"Help yourself," he encouraged, also reaching for a snack. After swallowing it, he cleared his throat. "What was your brother's name?" he asked gently.

"Fergus."

"Fergus Cousland?"

"Yes," she replied after swallowing her bite. "He was married to Oriana, and they had a son, little Oren. They were…" She sighed, shaking her head.

"Yes, I remember now. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, Adam." She stood up and he followed her. "If you don't mind, I would like to retire to the lounge for a while. I promise I will call on Liara, I just… need some time to myself."

"Are you okay?"

She turned to him, her chin held high. "I have just discovered that my brother survived the Blight and had another family. I am more than 'okay'," she said with a faint smile. "And, even if he no longer exists, he lives on through you. I would like some time to remember him, and to reflect."

"Of course. I understand." He walked her to the door. "I'll see you to the lounge."

"Thank you, but I know the way," she replied before leaning in and kissing Shepard on the cheek as Liara had done. "Perhaps later, or tomorrow, I could tell you how Liara and I have progressed? I am more determined than ever to find some answers."

"I'd like that. Why don't you use your omni-tool to say goodnight to me and Steve a little later?"

"Oh, I would not want to disturb you," she began.

He smiled. "Abby, trust me, once Steve gets here I won't be doing anything more strenuous than lifting a cup of coffee. And then, _maybe."_

"Very well, then," she agreed, her eyes sparkling. "I am pleased to see that you are recovering well. I will pray to the Maker that James's health will improve as swiftly."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that. Take care, Abby. You sure you don't want a doggy bag?"

"Quite sure, thank you," she laughed, and the doors slid open. "I will… 'speak' to you later."

"I look forward to it."

He waited until she'd boarded the elevator and the doors had closed before stepping back into his cabin. He then took a seat on the couch and activated his omni-tool.

"Steve? You still working?"

"Just tidying up. You feeling okay? Finished with the ladies?"

"Yeah, they just left, and I got some canapés here with your name on them."

"Nice. Any California rolls?"

"Well, that depends how long it takes you to get here. Unless you wanted to visit James first?"

A short pause followed. "No… it's okay. I'll be right there. Hands off my rolls."

Shepard briefly wondered at Steve's reluctance to visit his friend, but shrugged and settled back into the couch. "I make no promises. Shepard out."


	7. Discretion is the Better Part of Valour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are going on behind the scenes aboard the Normandy, but James prefers a more direct approach.

Cortez released a contented sigh and closed his eyes, allowing the water to cascade over his head. He rested his forehead against the cool glass of the shower stall, the powerful jet of water rinsing the suds from his back, when he imagined he heard faint music. Stepping to the side and away from the water, he wiped the steam off the glass and squinted, seeing the blurred outline of Shepard, who was shaving at the sink, and watched him for a minute.

"Are you _whistling_?"

Shepard, his back to the shower stall, shook his head. "Nope. That would indicate chirpiness, and as you know, I don't do chirpy."

"Riiiight," drawled Steve, grinning through the glass as Adam turned around, his eyes moving downward.

"You missed a spot," Shepard pointed out with a nod towards the lower regions of Steve's body, which were still covered by soap.

Steve looked down and shrugged. "Larger parts of my anatomy require more rinsing," he boasted, and Shepard laughed, turning away to resume his shave. "I'm not too proud to ask for help, though…"

"Damn you, Cortez. You _know_ I have a galaxy to save."

"You weren't thinking of the galaxy an hour ago."

"No, I wasn't. I was too busy being taken advantage of while on _medical leave_ , I'll remind you."

"Ha!" Steve scoffed as he turned off the water, having completely rinsed himself off. "Nothing wrong with you. I can personally vouch for your stamina."

Shepard smiled at the mirror as Steve stepped out, wrapped a towel around his waist and moved behind Shepard, resting his chin on the commander's shoulder. "You're healthy as a horse," said Cortez, looking at Shepard's reflection. "So, since you're still on medical leave, what are your plans for today?"

"I have a few people to talk to, but I should be able to spend some time with Abby, while I actually have the time."

"Good idea. I'm sure she'd appreciate that." Steve waited while Shepard splashed his face with water and towelled himself before turning around to face Steve. "I like this, you know," Cortez said, laying his hands on the commander's hips.

"Being normal?" guessed Shepard, inching closer.

"Yeah, and I aim for us to be as normal as possible, as often as possible. Even if we can only squeeze in a couple of minutes a day."

Shepard smiled. "I know you do, and I'm grateful. Having you move up here was one of the better command decisions I've made. Purely for the sake of your CO's morale, you understand."

Steve pulled a face. "Happy to be of service," he said flatly.

Shepard laughed, pulled him close and kissed him on the lips before Steve's laughter joined his own. "Want to join me for breakfast before you start work?" Shepard asked.

"Why don't we have it up here?" Cortez suggested. "You _are_ still on medical leave. I'll get dressed and grab us something from downstairs."

"Sure, why not."

"Also, I was thinking of…" Steve paused before sighing, and Shepard frowned in concern.

"What is it?"

Steve reached for another towel and began to blot his hair. "I was thinking of maybe visiting James in sick bay, but I dunno." He stopped drying himself and leaned against the sink unit, the towel bunched in his hands. "I didn't mention it last night, because I wanted you to relax, but what really happened on Cyone? Did James not hear your order? Did he misunderstand?"

Shepard's face dropped and his nostrils twitched as he breathed in. "No. He didn't misunderstand. And he heard me loud and clear – he answered me before he passed out."

"Damn it," Steve hissed, shaking his head before throwing his towel to the floor. "Damn it!"

"I know he's your friend," Shepard began, "but we had a conversation, didn't we, when we first got together. You know I can't discuss this any further. I already said too much in sick bay. This is a disciplinary matter now."

"I know, I know," Steve replied, holding his hands up. "Idiot!" he growled, swiping the towel from the floor and walking into the main part of the cabin.

Shepard gave him a little while to cool off before exiting the bathroom, finding Steve dressed and sitting on a chair, pulling his boots on. He lingered in the doorway, folding his arms. "You still gonna visit him?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Steve muttered. "I might end up saying something I shouldn't."

Shepard nodded in understanding. "I can appreciate that. I was angry at first, too, but even I know James made a mistake. Don't worry, I won't be too hard on him."

Steve looked up. "Why not? If he disobeyed you then he deserves it!"

"Maybe, maybe not, but he may need a friend when the time comes. Try to keep things in perspective, Steve."

"Perspective? He could have gotten you killed!" Cortez argued, standing up.

Shepard sighed and moved to Steve's side. "But he didn't. Come on. We both know life's too short to dwell on what _might_ have happened." He laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Let it go. Be his friend, if for no other reason than I _can't_ be right now. I have to handle this. I have to be his commander."

"I'll think about it." Steve sighed and headed for the door. "What do you want to eat?"

"Um… think I'll try something different today. I'm not in the mood for bacon. Whatever you're having." Steve nodded and the door slid open as he stepped out. "You gonna be okay?" Shepard called after him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve replied with a shrug as he stood in the doorway. "Guess I'm not doing too good a job of keeping things 'normal'."

Shepard tilted his head to one side and smiled. "You're doing a great job. Get that breakfast in less than five minutes, and I'll promote you to Head of Morale."

"Is that a higher pay grade?"

"Sorry."

Steve finally smiled and shook his head as he headed for the elevator. Shepard watched the cabin door close before moving to his bed and sitting down, activating his omni-tool. "Traynor? Can we go over my itinerary real quick? I'd like to free up a little time this morning."

"I think we can manage that, Commander."

~o~O~o~

The efficient specialist was as good as her word, keeping Shepard's entire morning free. Major Alenko was on standby in case an away team needed to be assembled or if Hackett or Anderson got in touch, and EDI, Joker, Adams and Cortez all took advantage of the lull to perform system checks. The atmosphere on the Normandy was relaxed and quietly productive, and Shepard took the rare opportunity to chat with a few crew members as they passed by – usually he had little time for anything but a curt nod or grunt.

He entered the Mess, hoping to catch Kaidan, and was surprised to find Abby in there, seated at a table with Liara and Garrus. He smiled, glad to see that she was settling in, and joined the threesome, taking a seat at the table and wishing his friends good morning.

"Good morning, Adam," Abby greeted him in return. "I thought I would wait here for you today, and that we might break our fast together."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Abby, I've already eaten," Shepard said. "I broke with my usual routine today."

"Yes, I know," she replied with a smile. "Rupert told me that Steve had ordered breakfast for you both. Then he mumbled something about how he'd make more money if he turned this 'joint' into a… take-out?"

Shepard rolled his eyes. "That sounds about right."

"Either way, I'm very pleased to hear that you're taking it easy. Did you and Steve have a pleasant evening?"

"We did, thank you. You didn't say goodnight to us. Did you get your omni-tool?"

Abby nodded and shared an enthusiastic glance with Liara. "I could have said goodnight, but decided not to in case you were sleeping. Liara has been very helpful in showing me how to use the omni-tool."

Shepard folded his arms, wearing a faint smile. "Let's see it, then."

She sat up straight and cleared her throat before raising her right arm slightly, and her omni-tool lit up. "Um, Commander Shepard? Hello?"

Shepard unfolded his arms as his own omni-tool glowed. "Shepard here," he said seriously, and Abby chuckled. "What's this about?"

"I was wondering if you'd care to join me in the Mess, if you're not too busy?"

"On my way. Shepard out."

"Cousland out," Abby finished before laughing along with her new friends.

"I have also instructed Abby how to purchase goods," said Liara, "but she has no funds at present."

"That's okay," replied Shepard, entering an instruction into his omni-tool. "I'll put her on my expenses. Next time we visit the Citadel, Abby, you can go shopping. Maybe Liara or Steve will go along with you. They're into that kind of thing."

"Oh, are these your own funds?" she asked. "I would not want to–"

"No. I'm allocated a certain amount of expenses by Alliance HQ for entertaining dignitaries, things like that. I never use it."

"Yeah, visiting dignitaries eat what _we_ eat and like it," Garrus provided with a pointed look at Shepard.

"Damn straight," Shepard agreed before addressing Abby. "It's a pretty small amount. You won't be depriving the Alliance of war supplies or anything like that. Oh, and if you need anything, put in a requisition order with EDI."

"And if you need guns or armor, Vega's your man," Garrus said helpfully. "You know. In case Shepard gets outta line. It wouldn't be the first time."

"She _won't_ need anything like that, thanks all the same," Shepard replied, shaking his head. "Anyway, Abby, I was hoping we could spend the morning together, unless you've made plans? I'd like to talk to you in more detail about your experiences during the Blight. It'd be interesting to see if there are any parallels with my own experiences. We might not get the chance again once I'm back on duty."

"I would love to," she said eagerly, "and no, I have not made any plans besides meeting Liara for lunch."

"That's settled, then. Shall we go to the lounge? Less interruptions there," he said, looking directly at Garrus, who gave a rasping chuckle.

"Of course." Abby stood up, quickly followed by Shepard, and they said goodbye to Garrus and Liara before leaving the Mess.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she asked on the way to the lounge.

"Much better," he replied with a faint smile. "I'm hoping to be cleared for full duties by the end of the day."

"That's wonderful news. And how is James?"

"Dr. Chakwas informs me that he's on his way to a full recovery, although he'll need to spend a little longer in sick bay."

"Have you not been to visit him, then?" she enquired before her face fell a little. "I mean… I suppose there has not been enough time."

"Something like that. You seem to be settling in well," he commented, quickly changing the subject.

"Oh, I am. Your friends and crew really have made me feel very welcome," she said before halting, a troubled look crossing her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She shook her head before looking up at him and sighing. "I have something to confess," she said heavily. "I'm afraid I heard your conversation when you brought James into the sick bay."

"Oh."

"I wasn't listening deliberately," she added hastily, "it's just that I was standing quite close to the window and–"

"No, I'm the one who should be apologising," he reassured her. "I'm sorry you heard that. It was unprofessional of me."

They shared a moment of silence before Abby cleared her throat. "What will happen to him?"

Shepard looked down the corridor and then gestured to the lounge door. "Let's go inside."

They entered the lounge and Abby invited Shepard to take a seat on the couch, which he did. She remained standing, however, her hands folded together. "Is he in serious trouble?" she asked quietly.

"I'll be having a discussion with James once he's cleared for duty."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm asking too many questions."

He shook his head and gestured to the chair next to him, waiting until Abby sat down. "No, you're not. I guess I can't blame you after what you heard. This is something that James and I need to deal with, and it would be inappropriate to discuss it in detail with anyone else. And, yes, I'm fully aware that I did just that in sick bay," he admitted with a wry twist of his mouth.

"I understand, Adam. Leading people you've grown close to can be a complicated thing. I learned that the hard way," she replied. "I would expect that travelling together, your meals and leisure time all shared, makes for a very close-knit group."

"It does," he agreed but waited for her to elaborate.

"I had a similar situation during the Blight," she explained. "We fought side-by-side. We slept, ate, shared our stories, and consoled one another, all in a small camp. No matter what our mission or where we were, at the end of the day, we all returned to one another. It was our safe haven in the darkness."

He nodded. "Sounds familiar."

"It gave us strength, that connection to one another, but it made it hard for some to submit to their orders as they should have. I can tell you I had more than my fair share of confrontations with Sten and Oghren. Battle can do that, blur the lines of duty and service where they otherwise would be clear."

"I hear that," he agreed before falling silent.

She watched him for a minute before turning towards him. "Would it be inappropriate if I asked about your mission on Tuchanka, now that a few days have passed? You appeared quite preoccupied upon your return, despite the mission being a success."

He hung his head a little and sighed. "I lost a good friend during that mission."

"Do you mean Dr. Solus? I… heard from someone else."

He nodded. "It's a long story. Basically, the krogan were infected with a disease which prevented them from reproducing, and their population was dwindling. Dr. Solus helped fashion a cure. Shortly before we left for the planet, I was contacted by an enemy of the krogan who promised me an army of scientists to help with the war effort… _if_ I sabotaged the cure."

Abby's mouth opened, but she said nothing.

"I actually considered it briefly," he confessed. "My whole reason for being here is to accumulate war assets in the form of vessels, technology and people. The salarians would have made a sizeable contribution."

"But you decided not to sabotage the cure," she guessed.

He shook his head. "It took about thirty seconds of _considering_ it to know I couldn't do it. The krogan leader is also a good friend of mine, and I believe his people will flourish under his leadership. They deserved a chance. But making that decision resulted in Mordin's death. If I _had_ decided to sabotage the cure, I think he might have gone along with it, after a lot of persuasion, and we'd have a team of brilliant salarian scientists as well as the krogan clans."

"But the krogan people would eventually have died out."

He nodded, his eyes glazing over. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't. That should be my epitaph."

She watched him for a moment longer before rising and joining him on the couch.

"During our travels, we visited a village called Redcliffe," she said. "We discovered that a young boy – a mage – had been inhabited by a demon, which sent hordes of undead to terrorise the village each night." She paused to take a breath, seeing his blue eyes, wide in her peripheral vision. "There were those who practised dark magics, and there was one such mage at Redcliffe. He offered a solution – he could end the demon's hold over the boy, but would require a life in return. The boy's mother volunteered."

She slowly looked at Adam, seeing pity and understanding in his eyes. "A decision had to be made quickly and I agreed. Damned if you do, damned if you don't," she said bitterly.

"Hey," he whispered, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "You saved the boy _and_ the village, by the sound of it."

She gave him a quick smile, which faded almost immediately. "Alistair had something to say about it, though," she related. "I don't think I've ever seen him so angry. I feared he would explode at one point. I can't say I blame him."

"But he came round, right?"

"He did… eventually. We had a long talk. He didn't agree with what I did, but admitted he wouldn't have had the nerve to make the decision himself. He said he was glad one of us did."

"Sounds like he was a good friend to have. He disagreed with you but stood by you nonetheless."

She nodded. "He was my dearest friend. We kept each other whole, quite a feat considering we were facing an army of soulless creatures," she replied, her voice hushed. "I miss him very much."

"We'll do our best to find out what happened to him," Adam promised. "To all of them. I've tried to imagine how it would feel to be suddenly cut off from my friends, my whole way of life. I swear to you I won't stop until you have some answers."

"But you are already doing so much more than I could have hoped for," she said, her smile returning, "and you have so many other things to think about. You don't owe me anything, Adam."

"Sure I do," he replied innocently. "I've got to take care of my Aunty Abby."

Her face screwed up and she laughed. "Ugh! _Please_ don't call me that again! It makes me sound so old!"

He looked at her sideways before clearing his throat. "You _are_ aware that you're a thousand years older than me?"

She folded her arms, pushing her lower lip outward. "Well, I _had_ thought you a gentleman, Adam Shepard."

"I've never claimed to be one."

"And with good reason."

Their eyes met and they laughed again, Shepard pulling her closer and squeezing her shoulder. "Listen," he began. "There's another member of my crew I'd like you to meet. She's the most important of all of them, but she _is_ rather unusual."

"Are you talking about EDI? I remember James saying that she has a body, and that she works on the bridge."

"That's right. She's always asking about you, but doesn't want to just show up at your quarters. She's very aware that you might find her appearance… different."

"What does she look like?"

"Her body's made of a flexible, mimetic alloy that… actually, let's just call it metal. She doesn't wear clothing, but she's not naked, exactly. She's covered up where she needs to be covered up."

Abby blinked. "Metal? She must be very strong."

"We haven't fully tested her body's capabilities, but I've seen her push a Mako onto its side to make room. I don't think she could _lift_ one, though… oh, that's something else we'll show you when time allows. It's an armored vehicle weighing around six tons, or twelve thousand pounds."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You're… not joking, are you?"

He shook his head. "Oh, and you need to watch out for her sense of humor. She also likes to make jokes. I think you'll like her. I've just remembered that I need to go to the bridge to speak to her. Should I bring her back with me?"

"Yes, I would like that," she replied, and Shepard noticed that she seemed a little wary.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. But if you're not completely comfortable, that's fine. We'll leave it for now."

"Oh, no, I was merely thinking of Caridin."

"Caridin?"

"He was a golem, fashioned from steel, who we encountered in the Deep Roads. He must have been… four meters tall, and just as wide."

"EDI's about 5'9", and as wide as you."

"Oh," she laughed. "Well, in that case, she should have no trouble fitting into the lounge."

"No, she won't," agreed Shepard, standing up. "I won't be gone long."

Abby also stood up and glanced at the door. "May I visit James in the sick bay while you are gone?" she asked.

"Of course. I do need to ask you, though, not to repeat anything we've discussed concerning James."

She dipped her head. "I understand, Adam. You have my word."

He smiled. "Thank you. I think he'll be very happy to see you. How about we meet back here in… half an hour?"

"That sounds perfect," she agreed, and he gestured towards the door, allowing her to go first.

**xXx**

Abby walked into the med bay, pleased to see that James was sitting up and talking with Dr. Chakwas. She approached quietly, mindful not to interrupt the doctor, and waited to be acknowledged.

Dr. Chakwas turned to her as James smiled. "Hey, Abby!" he greeted.

"Good morning, Abby. I hope you're feeling well today," Chakwas added.

"I am, thank you," she replied, watching with interest as the doctor ran a medical scan of James's chest, while trying _not_ to notice his half-dressed state. "I, uh, I came to see how James was feeling. I apologize if I'm disrupting a treatment. Shall I go?"

"Not in the least," Chakwas replied, her omni-tool shutting down. "I've just finished a diagnostic of our lieutenant's lung capacity. He's all yours to entertain while I process this data."

Abby nodded to the doctor as she passed, returning to her work area across the bay. Turning back to James, she cleared her throat. "Do you, I mean, would you like me to give you a moment to dress?"

He glanced down at his naked torso and shrugged. "I'm good, she'll just be back in a bit to stick me with more stuff anyway."

"Oh, right," she replied, averting her eyes. "How are you?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Do you want me to put a shirt on? I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry, we're just in the med bay–"

"No, it's… it's fine, please. Are you feeling better?"

He reached behind himself and picked up a sleeveless undershirt, pulling it over his head and covering his chest.

"Yeah, I feel good today, breathing is a lot easier," he answered as he adjusted the bunched fabric. "Anything new with you?"

"Liara and I will be having lunch together today. I'm also going to meet EDI," she explained. "I'm glad you're better, James. I was worried for you."

"So that's why you came by, huh? Not just to see me with my shirt off," he joked, waggling his eyebrows and smiling. He was surprised at the deepness of her blush.

"Oh, well, I…"

He chuckled. "Sorry, Abby, I'm just teasin' you," he assured her. "You've probably already figured out I'm kind of a flirt."

She met his eyes evenly. "Oh, I've noticed."

They were quiet for a moment, their gazes locked until Abby smiled softly and glanced down at her hands.

He felt his heart skip a beat, acutely aware that she'd not rejected his modest advance. He tried not to show it. "So, uh, do you play any cards where you're from? Ferelden?" he asked, unable to resist leaning toward her. "Maybe you could teach me a game or two?"

"You mean games of chance?"

"Yeah, sure."

"We did, but I'm afraid I can't teach you any of them," she confessed. "My father didn't approve of me learning such games, since the only people I could have played with would have been the soldiers under Father's command, or the men at the pub."

He nodded slowly, his eyes still locked with hers. "I can't blame him for that. A woman surrounded by a bunch of men in a bar isn't a good combo, especially a woman who looks like you do. Sounds like your dad was a smart guy."

"Looks like I do?"

"Yeah, you know, beautiful."

She blushed again and he smiled at it. "Anyway, I guess that means you've never played poker?"

"No," she answered, resting her hip against the bed. "Will you teach me?"

"Have a seat," he said with a smile, patting the end of his bed.

~o~O~o~

"S'up, Commander?" Joker asked as Shepard stepped onto the bridge before leaning against the pilot's chair.

"Everything okay up here?"

"Yeah, we're just waiting for the diagnostic to complete. Not a whole lot going on."

"Good. In that case, as I'm still considered an invalid by Dr. Chakwas, I'd like to borrow your 'Mobility Assistance Mech'."

EDI swivelled her chair around, stood up and moved to Shepard's side. "That role is merely a cover to protect my true identity as an AI when I am on the Citadel. However, if you are in need of assistance, this body can provide aid."

Shepard grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, well, in that case, never mind."

EDI studied the commander for a moment. "I have misunderstood, haven't I? You were attempting humor."

" _Attempting?"_ exclaimed Joker. "Ouch, Boss."

Shepard laughed. "Something like that," he replied. "EDI, if you have some time, I'd like to introduce you to Abby. She's visiting James at the moment, but if you're free, I'll take you to her quarters to introduce you in a little while."

"That is acceptable, Shepard. I am looking forward to meeting her."

"I also wanted to talk to you in private," he said, lowering his voice. "I might need to begin Article 15* proceedings against a crew member, and I'd like your counsel when the time comes."

"Very well. Accessing Uniform Code of Military Justice. Complete. I am at your disposal when required."

"Any questions?" Shepard asked.

EDI glanced sidelong at Joker. "Yes, but I will wait until we are alone before I ask them."

"Oh? That's new, isn't it?"

"Not in this instance. I realize that this is a private matter regarding a member of the crew. On a related note, Jeff has begun teaching me how to exercise discretion when I am interacting with organics. It is apparently a desirable human trait."

"It is, though I'm surprised that it was Joker, of _all_ people, who pointed that out to you."

"Thanks, Commander," Joker grumbled from his chair.

"How's it going?" Shepard asked EDI.

"It is going well." She placed a hand on her elbow, bringing her other hand to her chin. "For example, earlier this morning, Jeff asked me if you had vacated your cabin. I replied that you had, but were unavailable. I did _not_ inform him, however, that you were unavailable because you were in the men's restroom on deck three, or that the duration of your visit was eleven minutes and forty-four seconds. I have observed that bodily functions are often a source of embarrassment or amusement among humans."

"EDI," an exasperated Joker interrupted. "That's _not_ being discreet. That's bragging that you _are_ discreet while being _in_ discreet. Jeez."

"I do not understand how I am being indiscreet when Shepard is right here," she replied, and the commander palmed his face. " _He_ is fully aware that he was…"

"Taking a dump? Yeah, but _I_ wasn't, until now, that is," Joker groaned, shaking his head. "Thanks for the awesome mental image, by the way."

EDI's expression remained unchanged as she considered Joker's words. "I see. My apologies, Shepard. Clearly, more study is required to fully master the art of discretion."

"That's… okay, EDI," mumbled Shepard, uncovering his face. "It's an improvement, anyway. Let's go find a quiet place to talk, and I'll apprise you of the Article 15 case."

"Yeah, like nobody knows it's James," muttered Joker.

"Lieutenant," Shepard warned, and the pilot held his hands up.

"All right! I was just saying."

"I'd recommend finding yourself a new teacher, EDI," Shepard advised as they left the bridge. "Otherwise, it's like the blind leading the blind."

"I heard that!"

**xXx**

Abby laughed gleefully, a beautiful smile on her face. "I believe, Lieutenant, that I win this hand," she announced, revealing her pair of aces.

With a slow grin, James nodded. "Yup, you've got me beat with that pair," he admitted, reaching for her cards and beginning to shuffle the deck. "Funny, that's the third win for you. You know more than you're letting on, don't you?"

"Me? I would _never_ mislead you, James," she answered with a sly smile. "I'm an honest girl and wouldn't know a thing about these sort of games," she finished before reaching out and taking the deck from his hands. She then began to shuffle them with a speed and agility second only to the dealers he'd seen at the Silver Coast casino on the Citadel.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Hustled, that's what's happening here. I'm gettin' hustled by the new chick."

She dealt another round, smiling as she fanned her own hand out.

"So, ah, Abby, I was going to ask you if you're feelin' any better about all of this? Being here?" he asked, watching her carefully. "Last time we talked you were, you know, dealing with a lot of, ah, _stuff_."

"By 'stuff' do you refer to my absolute and total panic attack the other night?"

He went still. "Uh, I wasn't trying to say _that_ , I just–"

She shook her head. "Stop, it's fine, you're allowed to ask. I know I lost all good sense and reason for a bit, but you and Steve were a big help. And to answer your question, yes, I'm feeling much better."

"I hated seeing you afraid," he admitted. "I'm not trying to bring it all up, unless you want to talk about it. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I am. I know I still have a great deal to work through, but I know I'm safe and that I'm not alone."

"No, you're not alone. I'm right here," he said, something new in his eyes. He blinked a few times and looked down at his hand, clearing his throat. "Uh, I mean, _we're_ right here, you know, the commander and the rest of us, if you need help or whatever."

"Well, thank you."

They quietly played their next round and this time he won, but as she began to shuffle the deck, he reached for the cards, taking them from her hands.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked, fumbling with the cards. "I can shuffle, no problem, but that arching thing where they all sort from top to bottom? I can't do it."

"That's actually rather easy," she said, scooting up to him, their knees now touching as she faced him on the bed. She carefully took the cards and shifted his large hands, positioning the deck in them so she could show him what to do.

He leaned close, trying to focus on something other than how near she was to him.

"See? If you turn your thumb like this," she began to say, looking up and pausing, her eyes briefly moving to his lips. She shook her head slightly, her eyes moving back to his hands. "Um, if you, uh, just turn your thumb–"

"Abby?"

She stilled, her hand on his as she looked back up, meeting his eyes. "Yes?"

Silently he let the deck slide free of his grip and with a slow and deliberate motion, touched her face. He leaned forward and kissed her.

She kissed him back.

"Excuse me," said a familiar voice.

They broke apart, each blushing like embarrassed teenagers, as Dr. Chakwas arrived at James's bedside.

"This is a medical bay, Lieutenant, not a venue for a date," the doctor scolded good-naturedly.

"Oh, Maker," Abby breathed, clambering off the bed, the deck of cards spilling everywhere. "I'm so sorry, I'll clean that up!"

James, beet red, swung his legs over the side of the bed. "No, I'll get it!"

"No, _I'll_ take care of it," Chakwas argued, a hand on James's shoulder, preventing him from standing. "Nothing to apologize for, Abby, nothing at all. But I do need to scan the lieutenant and check his oxygen saturation levels, so I'm afraid we'll need a moment of privacy."

Abby met James's eyes, her mouth moving but no words coming out.

"Will this take long, Doc?" James asked Chakwas, his gaze on Abby, who was biting her lip and looking very uncertain of herself. "Abby was teaching me a new way to shuffle the deck."

"Is that what it's called these days?" the doctor quipped. "No more than ten minutes."

"I-I should really get going," Abby stammered, backing up and bumping against the adjacent bed. She looked over her shoulder and scooted around the bed. "I'm glad you're feeling better, James!"

She left the med bay quickly, not looking back as she did.

Chakwas scanned his neck and chest, but said nothing.

He slumped back against his pillows. "Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _* A non-judicial punishment (NJP) in the United States Armed Forces is a form of military justice authorized by Article 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Non-judicial punishment or 'NJP' permits commanding officers to administratively discipline troops without a court-martial. Punishments vary depending on the severity of the infraction. The receipt of non-judicial punishment does not constitute a criminal conviction (it's equivalent to a civil action), but is placed in the service record of the individual, and is likely to have a negative impact on future promotion/career prospects._


	8. Back to Earth with a Bump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is on a high after being returned to duty, but his enthusiasm is short-lived.

Shepard and EDI waited outside the lounge, hoping that Abby had returned from sick bay. After a minute the doors opened, and they stepped inside.

"I see you've learned to use verbal commands to open the door," Shepard said as Abby slowly rose from her chair, her well-practised diplomatic smile in place. Shepard halted a few feet away from her, and EDI did the same. "Abby, I'd like to introduce you to EDI," he said, gesturing at his companion.

"It is good to meet you, Lady Cousland," EDI began, offering her hand.

Abby took a few steps forward, doing her best not to gawk, and touched EDI's hand, astonishment registering on her face as the AI's fingers wrapped around her own. "How do you do, EDI? It's a real pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"I 'do' very well. Thank you for your inquiry," answered EDI with a hint of amusement as she released Abby's hand.

"You're… warm," Abby stated. "I'm… oh, forgive me. It's just, I wasn't expecting that. I didn't mean to be rude."

"No apology is necessary. Many organics exhibit surprise that my exosuit feels warm to the touch. If you wish, I would be pleased to explain in detail how that is accomplished. I have noticed, however, that some appear distracted when I do so."

"How about another time?" Shepard suggested. "Abby's only just learned to use an omni-tool. She might find the internal workings of a gynoid infiltration unit a little…"

"Distracting," EDI finished. "Understood. I will exercise discretion on this occasion."

Abby's eyes moved rapidly between the twosome and, noticing this, Shepard smiled. "Well, that's enough technical talk. Don't mind us, Abby."

"Oh, not at all," she said politely, gesturing to the seating area. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you, Lady Cousland," EDI said as she took a seat next to Shepard on the couch.

"Please, call me Abby. May I fetch you a drink? _Do_ you drink?"

"No, thank you. I do not require sustenance." EDI tilted her head to one side. "Do you feel well, Abby? You appear to be perspiring."

"No, I'm fine!" she quickly protested, but did not sit down.

"Are you sure?" Shepard asked. "You _do_ look a little flustered. Is it EDI? Is she making you nervous?"

"I will leave if you wish," said the AI, and Abby stared at them both in horror.

"It's fine," said Shepard, noticing Abby's reaction. "EDI doesn't take offence at things like we do."

Abby immediately took a seat on the chair next to the end of the couch where EDI was seated. "No! Please don't leave! It's not you, EDI, I swear. I just… um, rushed to get back here from sick bay. I was worried I'd be late."

"But your body language indicates that you may be–" EDI began to argue, but stopped when Shepard touched her arm.

"Let's just drop it," he whispered before clearing his throat. "Anyway," he said, forcing a cheerful tone, "how was James?"

"He appeared quite well," Abby replied, sitting up straight and noticing that EDI was watching her intently. "Dr. Chakwas was performing several tests on him."

At that moment, Shepard's omni-tool pinged. "Shepard here."

"It's Doctor Chakwas, Commander."

"We were just talking about you," he said with a smile.

"Oh? All good, I hope."

"Mostly," he quipped. "So what can I do for you?"

"I've cleared Lieutenant Vega for duty in the armory, and he's eager to return. He is _not_ cleared for combat, however, until further notice. I'll reassess him on a daily basis."

Shepard nodded. "How long, Doc? Roughly?"

"I'd say forty-eight hours at the most, but twenty-four is more likely."

"Good. And what about me? I feel fine, you know."

"From what I've heard, you are going about your business as usual despite being on medical leave," the doctor said in a resigned tone. "Remember that _you_ are still not cleared for combat, either. I will see you this evening, when I expect to return you to full duties. _No_ combat until then," she added sternly.

"Got it. Catch you later, Doc." He deactivated his omni-tool and stared ahead, frowning slightly.

"That's very good news, Adam," said Abby, finally smiling.

"It is." He stood up, and Abby recognised the change in his demeanour. "Would you excuse me?" he asked them. "There's something I need to take care of."

Both Abby and EDI suspected the reason for Shepard's departure but, in the spirit of discretion, did not call attention to it.

"Of course," Abby said.

"I'll be back in a little while." Shepard nodded to them before heading for the door and leaving.

Abby waited until the door had closed before clearing her throat. "Well, EDI, would you like me to show you around?"

"I am familiar with the layout of the Port Observation Lounge. However, I am aware that many organic females take pleasure and pride in showing their acquaintances around their domiciles." She looked around the lounge. "I like what you have done with the place. It is very… cosy."

"Thank you!" Abby grinned, and they both stood up. "Would you like to see the statue Liara gave me? She told me it's from a place called Ilium."

"I would enjoy that," replied EDI. "Please proceed."

~o~O~o~

"Hey! Jimmy's back! _Yeah!"_ James announced loudly as he swaggered into the shuttle bay, pumping his fist. To his right, Steve was working on the Kodiak and looked over his shoulder briefly before returning to his task.

"James."

Vega frowned, wondering at his friend's cool reaction, before quickly deciding that poor Esteban was overworked as usual. He approached the pilot and peered over his shoulder for a minute or two. When Cortez still didn't look at him, James decided to cheer him up.

"You miss me, Esteban?" he asked, giving his friend a hefty slap on the back. Cortez immediately went rigid and James sharply retracted his hand.

"I managed, thanks." Cortez moved away from James, still not looking at him, and James felt irritation and hurt prick at him.

"Hey, thanks for coming to visit me in sick bay, by the way," he remarked, his sarcasm apparent despite his attempt to keep his tone casual. "I was only in there for, you know, nearly _two days_."

"In case you weren't aware, I've been on my own down here. Garrus helped out a little, but he has his own duties to take care of. I didn't exactly have a lot of time on my hands. But, as I said before, I managed."

James stared at Cortez's back, his mouth half-open. This wasn't what usually happened when James reported for duty. On a normal day, they'd shoot the shit for a while and then Esteban would tell him to get to work. Cortez wasn't his superior, but he ran a tight operation in the shuttle bay, and James liked to pretend he wasn't interested in doing anything. Cortez would then start nagging him, and James would 'reluctantly' start work. That was their routine, and James liked it.

Today, however, Esteban wasn't sticking to the routine, and James began to feel uncomfortable with the change.

"Maybe I should start work, then?"

"Maybe you should."

James waited another moment before huffing and walking to his work station, a very unpleasant feeling in his stomach. He glanced back a couple of times, finding Esteban hard at work, his back to James. He hadn't even _looked_ at him.

After a few minutes of aimlessly shuffling items around his work top, James decided that he wouldn't be able to get anything done in this atmosphere, and walked back to the Kodiak, stopping just behind Cortez and folding his arms. "All right, what's eating you? If you're pissed about what happened on Cyone, you should know that Shepard wants to see me later, and I'm pretty sure he's gonna hand my ass to me over that."

Cortez continued to work with his back to James. "Good."

"Is that what this is about? That I was stupid and nearly got myself killed? I know that, Esteban, and believe me, I learned my lesson."

He was met with silence and, as he watched Cortez work, he noticed the pilot's shoulders tense.

"Hey, at least I didn't crash the Kodiak this time, right?" he joked, his voice a semitone higher than usual. "Okay, I know I nearly bought it, but–" He stopped abruptly as Cortez rose to his full height and turned towards him.

"What do you want, a medal for bravery?" asked Steve, his tone hard.

"Okay… at least now you're looking at me," James said, realising he'd need to tread carefully as he'd never seen Esteban lose his temper before, and didn't want to provoke him. He was obviously pissed about _something._ "Come on, let me have it. Say what's on your mind."

Steve watched him for a beat before replying, and it was obvious he was struggling to keep his cool. "You think I cared about the Kodiak when you crashed it?"

James held his hands up. "No, I didn't mean that, I know you musta been worried about me. I just meant–"

"You think I was worried about _you_?" Steve scoffed. "How about the three people you almost killed? Remember? Shepard, Alenko, Liara? You missed them by a few feet!"

James's brows met, anger flashing in his eyes. "Hey, I had to do something! That robot – I mean EDI – I mean, ah, hell, whatever! It was gettin' away with the data!"

"The Kodiak has cannons!" Steve reminded him, quickly closing the gap between them. "You should have pursued the other shuttle! Any IFS* cadet would have known that!"

"Look, Esteban, I had to think of something fast!"

"And were you thinking fast when you disobeyed an order from Shepard that almost resulted in you–"

"I didn't disobey him! I just… I just _suggested_ we should take care of all the Reapers before getting outta there!"

"That almost resulted in you and him getting _killed?"_ Cortez resumed, his voice rising in volume.

"Come on, Esteban, don't you think you're being a little–" James began before Steve pointed a finger at Vega's face, startling him.

"None of the 'Esteban' crap, James. _Not_ today," the pilot seethed before turning his back and walking away. It was obvious he wasn't finished, however, when he halted and stood still for a few seconds.

"I know all about the 'talk' you had with Shepard when you first found out that he and I had hooked up," he said, slowly turning around, shaking his head at James's puzzled expression. "You know, the 'Esteban's already lost a husband, so don't you get dying' talk?"

James sighed. "You know about that?"

"Well, yeah, people who are together usually _tell_ each other things. You know what? I was really touched when I found out. I thought, 'What a great friend I have there. Someone who wants what's best for me'."

"Okay," James mumbled, bracing himself.

"Well, for someone who's so against Shepard getting himself killed, you seem to be doing your damndest to make it happen!" Steve accused, again pointing at James. "And you think I need to lose my friend as well on top of that? Is this all just a game to you? Because it isn't! This is about people's lives, James! Real people!"

James stared at Steve, realising that his laid-back, softly-spoken friend was losing his temper. Because of him. And he didn't like the way that felt. Finally, the potential consequences of his actions started to sink in, and he hung his head. "Hey, I…"

"You wanna play the hero? Go right ahead. It's your life. But _don't_ bring Shepard in on your heroics," Cortez hissed. "I can't protect him once he's down on the ground, and that's one of the hardest things to take. But _you_ can. That's what you're _supposed_ to do. And that means not throwing your own life away when you're supposed to have his back! You think I want to lose either of you?"

"Yeah, I-I see your point, Est… uh. Steve."

Cortez slowly walked up to James and stood about a foot in front of him. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, but his blue eyes were intense. "I've finally made peace with Robert's loss and found happiness with someone new, something I thought would never happen again. You wanna completely fuck up my life, James? Just keep on the way you're going."

James watched in silence as Steve returned to the Kodiak. For a second he was tempted to follow him, but decided against it. "Sorry, man," he muttered, his stomach churning.

~o~O~o~

A little later, James was called up to Shepard's cabin via the intercom, but it wasn't Shepard who summoned him – it was Traynor. James was already nervous following the altercation with Cortez, but there had been something in the specialist's voice, something stiff and formal, that had put James right on edge. And she'd kept calling him _Lieutenant._ Hell, Traynor never called him that – it was always _James._

" _So, uh, what kind of mood's the commander in, Traynor?"_

" _That's not for me to say, Lieutenant. He's expecting you. I wouldn't keep him waiting."_

He arrived outside the cabin and, after a brief pause to collect himself, pressed the sensor at the side of the door, which immediately opened. He slowly walked in, finding Shepard seated on his couch, studying a data pad. James stood to attention and saluted, and Shepard glanced up for a second before returning his attention to his data pad.

"Take a seat, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir."

James sat in an armchair opposite to Shepard's couch, a small table separating them. His heart began to pound as it became apparent that Traynor was not there, as James had expected. So why hadn't _Shepard_ called him up? Was this an 'official' thing? Was Shepard distancing himself from James? Trying to intimidate him? A dozen different possibilities raced through James's mind, and none of them were good.

After a few minutes, Shepard laid down his data pad and looked up. "How are you feeling now?"

"Good, Commander. Got a lot done today. Although Garrus did a great job while I was gone. So did Esteban. Well, he always does…" He trailed off and shrugged.

"Glad to hear it," Shepard said before sitting up straight. "I've called you here today so we can discuss the events that took place during the mission on Cyone. This is a preliminary, informal discussion, and the first step before NJP* for disciplinary infractions is implemented. Do you understand so far?"

"I understand, sir," James replied around a dry mouth.

"Since we're aren't proceeding with formal punishment at this time, you won't actually need a representative, but I want you to know that if this escalates, you'll have one appointed for you. For now, EDI is acting as my advisor on UCMJ* code and procedure."

James nodded.

"Now, if you want someone here during our conversation, I'm willing to bend protocol on this occasion, but I strongly encourage you to say so now. You'll need them if this goes to the next step and it might be a good idea to have their advice now."

"Uh… if it's all the same to you, Commander, I don't need no one. I trust you, sir."

"All right." Shepard cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Vega, during the mission on Cyone, you disobeyed a lawful order from your commanding officer, resulting in serious injury to yourself, lesser injuries to your CO and leaving other members of the landing party vulnerable to attack. What do you have to say?"

"Sir… I didn't intend to disobey you," James began. "I just said that there were a couple more marauders around the corner and we should take care of 'em before heading back."

"So you didn't hear me order you to stand down?"

There was a brief pause. "Yes, sir. I heard you."

"And did you obey me?"

James stared down at his boots, slowly shaking his head.

"Did you believe that my order was unlawful? Incorrect? Unreasonable?"

"No, sir," James sighed, his eyes still cast downward. "None of those things."

"Then why?"

James closed his eyes for a second. "I was… kinda keyed up, you know?" he explained, opening his eyes and glancing up, finding a stony-faced Shepard looking back at him. "I guess I don't like leaving things unfinished."

"None of us do, Lieutenant. But that wasn't your call to make. I have a duty of care to my crew and your actions meant I very nearly failed. I heard the saturation warning in my suit and knew that you'd also have had the warning. I disengaged and ordered you to fall back, but you continued to engage the Reaper troops. I then ordered you to stand down _immediately_. I was very clear. You told me you'd be there – and I quote – 'in just a minute', at which point you collapsed. I then received a call from Garrus, who was on the other side of the facility with Captain Riley, requesting urgent assistance as they were overrun. As you were unconscious by that point, you won't have heard it. EDI can replay the mission logs from time index–"

James held up a hand, shaking his head. "That won't be necessary, sir. I'll take your word for it."

Shepard nodded. "What I should have done, James, was leave you for dead and go help the others," he said, a steely edge to his voice, "but I didn't. I dragged your fully-armored body for fifty yards, up steps and around equipment, all whilst trying to hold my breath, until we were clear of the gas. So I guess _I_ didn't follow procedure properly either, huh?"

James remained silent, a deep frown carved into his brow, when EDI spoke.

"I would remind you, Shepard, that infractions of this severity usually warrant full Non-Judicial Punishment being brought to bear. A counselling session such as this would normally be bypassed. I would also remind you that this is the second occasion where it has been necessary to speak with Lieutenant Vega concerning disciplinary infractions."

"I'm aware of that, EDI, but we're at war and I need all the experienced soldiers I can get," Shepard replied before addressing James. "If I hadn't gotten to Garrus and Riley in time, they'd be dead, and their deaths would have been on me because I didn't respond to them in time. If I'd just left you, you would have undoubtedly been decorated for valor – _posthumously_. How the hell nobody died during that mission is beyond me." He leaned forward and fixed James with a hard stare. "When we're on the ground, we're supposed to have each other's backs. I'm supposed to cover you, or rescue you, if need be, from hostile forces. What I am _not_ supposed to do is rescue you from yourself. You have no idea how disappointed I am with you right now."

Met with continued silence from James, he sat back and sighed, waiting a minute before resuming. "You're one of the finest soldiers I've ever served with, James. When all this is over, you'll be going to N7 school, and you'll no doubt be made XO of an Alliance ship upon successful completion of it. _If_ you live that long. You're standing at a crossroads. Be sure you take the right path."

"Yes, sir," James mumbled, his voice catching.

Shepard picked up his data pad and made a quick note. "This counselling session will not be noted in your record at this time. If, however, you fail to comply with your superior officers' lawful orders again, war or not, I _will_ proceed with an NJP and this conversation will be added to the evidence.

I have no problem with my crew speaking their minds or even disagreeing with me on occasion. I'm not always right. But once I give a lawful order, I _require_ it to be followed. Pull a stunt like that again and you'll be subject to full Alliance disciplinary procedures, meaning confinement for thirty days and reduction of rank. Furthermore, I will remove your name from the landing party roster, meaning you'll never be trusted with away missions again."

Shepard tossed the data pad onto the table and sat back, folding his arms. "I don't think I need to tell you, James, that those measures will be academic, as once that stage has been reached, you can pretty much kiss your career goodbye. Do you have any questions."

James took a deep breath before shaking his head. "No, sir."

Shepard stared at him for a minute longer before picking up the data pad and standing up. "EDI, this 'informal conversation' is over."

"Acknowledged."

"This is strike two, James. _Don't_ destroy everything you've worked for," Shepard said to Vega. "Dismissed."

James stood up, snapped a quick salute, and Shepard did the same. "Commander, I–" James began.

" _Dismissed_ , Lieutanant."

James gave a nod and made his way out of Shepard's cabin on leaden legs. In a daze, he moved into the elevator, where he remained for several minutes, staring into space, after the doors had closed.

"Would you care to select a destination, Lieutenant?" EDI prompted.

"What? Oh, I, uh… Crew Deck," he mumbled.

Arriving on deck three, he stepped out of the elevator and stared at the door to Abby's quarters, a headache blooming inside his skull. Normally, when he needed to unwind or release some tension, he'd get drunk with Esteban, or seek Shepard out for a sparring session or workout.

They were his friends. And he'd let them down.

His stomach tightened as he continued to look at the lounge door. Abby was quickly becoming a friend as well, maybe more than that, considering her visit to the Med Bay. There was something about her, something that made him all too aware of her presence and made him want to protect her. He _could_ go and talk to her, knowing her gentle, refined voice and pretty smile would help put him at ease.

But he'd blown that as well, hadn't he? _Why_ had he kissed her?

At the time, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world and she'd kissed him back, right? But it'd been too soon, and when the doc had interrupted them... He sighed, running a hand through his buzz cut. Well, Abby had gotten out of there pretty damned fast, hadn't she?

Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe it was just him and she hadn't kissed him back at all. Maybe he didn't know what the hell he was doing. Maybe she'd run because he'd screwed _that_ up, too.

He shook his head, his confidence shattered after the day's events. "Why the hell would a lady like _that_ want me anyway?" he muttered under his breath.

Lingering in the corridor for a minute longer, he turned away from the lounge before heading for the crew quarters and the sanctuary of his bunk, hoping no one else would be there.

He needed to think.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IFS – Initial Flight Screening, a preliminary training school for military pilots.
> 
> NJP – Non-judicial punishment. Full explanation in chapter 7 footnotes.
> 
> UCMJ – Uniform Code of Military Justice, the foundation of military law in the United States.


	9. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and James reflect on, and learn from, recent events.

**Captain's Cabin**

"You okay?" Cortez asked Shepard after making them both a cup of coffee and sitting beside him.

Shepard took his cup, grunted and sat up straight on the couch, staring at his data pad for a moment before letting it fall to the side. "I spoke to James," he said quietly, taking a small sip of coffee.

"Yeah, so did I."

Shepard turned to Steve and watched him for a beat. "What did you say to him?"

"Just a few things he needed to hear." Cortez fell quiet and sipped at his own drink before sighing. "Doesn't mean I don't feel like a piece of crap, though."

"Yeah," Shepard agreed, and they said nothing further until they'd drained their cups. Steve silently took Shepard's cup from him and stood up, moving to the coffee pot and placing the cups down. He then returned to the couch but perched himself on the arm, leaving some space between them.

"How'd it go?" he asked Shepard. "If you're allowed to tell me, that is, and if you want to."

"I am and I do." Shepard patted the seat next to him, and Steve gave a faint smile before sitting down again, this time closer to Shepard.

"I know it couldn't have been easy for you," Steve observed. "Having to discipline someone is hard at the best of times, but when it's a friend…"

"I gave him a warning," said Shepard. "Procedure states that standard punishment for disobeying a lawful order is confinement and reduction of rank, but hell, James is too good a soldier to lose because of a stupid mistake. It's nothing to do with the fact he's my friend."

"I wasn't suggesting anything, you know that."

"I know." Shepard smiled and reached for one of Cortez's hands. "You know what I really wanted to do, Steve? I wanted to crack open a couple beers and tell him about some of the shit _I_ pulled when I was Lieutenant Shepard. I don't know how I got away with most of it, but somehow I did."

Steve grinned, and Shepard shook his head ruefully. "You know, achieving N7 and being designated XO on the Normandy _made_ me," he went on. "I've never been a 'by the book' kind of guy, but for the first time I realized I needed to start setting an example to others – it wasn't about just me anymore. But with James I _had_ to do things by the book. Me being 'one of the boys' wouldn't have helped him."

"You were doing your job," Steve reassured him. "He needed that wake-up call. And he's still _Lieutenant_ Vega. He must be feeling pretty lucky right about now. Let's hope he takes it to heart."

"I was thinking," Shepard began.

Steve frowned, placing a hand on Shepard's brow. "Want me to call Chakwas?"

Expecting a dirty look, Steve was delighted when Shepard laughed. "I walked into that one," he replied. "No, I was just remembering what a hothead I used to be. I had my own ideas about how missions should have been conducted, and didn't hesitate to let my COs know. I have absolutely no idea why Anderson wanted me as his XO. There were several other candidates, all with spotless records. I never disobeyed an order, though, and never got an 'official' reprimand, but I came close a couple of times. There were a few…'chats'."

"Maybe that's why Anderson wanted you," Steve guessed. "He could see your potential, or wanted someone who'd challenge him."

Shepard shrugged. "Maybe. Whatever the reason, he probably saved my career. I would have gotten in trouble eventually."

"What are you saying?" Steve asked. "You wanna recommend James for promotion?"

Shepard shook his head. "No. I need him to know he came _that_ close to losing everything. Besides, he won't be up for promotion until…" He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Did he tell you about…?"

"Being recommended for N7? Yeah. We're the only two people who know."

Shepard nodded. "I'm saying I want to give him a _taste_ of command again, to remind him of his responsibilities and duties to the mission and those under his command. Maybe it'll straighten him out. I know his last command went wrong despite his actions, and he lost a lot of confidence because of that. You know him better than I do, Steve. What do _you_ think? And put Cyone out of your mind when you answer. I know he's capable, but I need to know if he's _ready."_

Steve raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath. "He's certainly cocky, but that's not the same as confident. It's all a front. James and I talked about what happened with Captain Toni and his squad. He's accepted there was nothing he could have done to stop it, but it still eats away at him. I think he'd like the chance to put things right, you know? He can't bring those people back, but he _can_ command a mission and have it be a success. I really think that's what he needs."

Shepard thought about that for a moment. "There's some Spectre business going down at the Citadel soon, and I wanted to take Kaidan with me instead of having him deputize for me here. I _could_ have James step in as acting XO. Should be an easy command for him if we're parked at the Citadel. It'd be a start, anyway. I just need to be careful I'm not sending out the wrong message – 'disobey an order, get acting XO'."

"No, I doubt he'd see it that way," said Steve, shaking his head. "I think he'd realize what you were trying to do. Beneath all the swagger, there's a pretty sharp brain in his head."

"Yeah, I know that." Shepard glanced at Steve. "You still mad at him?"

Steve fidgeted a little. "I'm trying not to be. But it's hard. When I think about what could have happened… I know," he said, holding up a hand when Shepard frowned. "I just need some time. We're friends and we'll get past it, but I swear, Adam, if he ever puts you in danger again…"

"I have a feeling he won't," Shepard declared confidently. "But rest assured, if he does, I'll kick his sorry ass from here to the Far Rim."

"I'd pay to see that," Steve chuckled.

"So it's decided, then," said Shepard, patting Steve's thigh. "Thanks for the advice. I should make you my full-time advisor."

"Am I gonna see anything for all these extra duties?"

"You're working for the Alliance, not Cerberus," Shepard stated with a raised eyebrow. "Wanna grab some dinner?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Shepard nodded towards the door and both men stood up before leaving for the Mess.

**The following morning**

Abby stepped onto the elevator outside the crew quarters and quietly asked EDI for the hangar bay. It was very early, not quite 0600, but she'd hoped to find James awake.

She hadn't slept well; she'd had far too much on her mind for her to truly fall asleep. Everything about the Normandy was still such a wonder to her, its abilities and the beauty outside of its hull a constant revelation, but she had found its crew equally compelling.

Hence her long night.

She'd found it impossible to put James out of her mind since learning he may be facing discipline for his actions on Cyone. She agreed with the commander's reasons, knew as a leader of her own men that it had to be done, but that didn't lessen her worry over how James would had taken the news.

James was different from any other man she'd ever met, both in Ferelden and since her 'death'. He was a wonderful mixture of gentle and hard. An awkward description, she knew, but accurate nonetheless. He was a walking hulk of muscle, with power and strength in every movement, but also possessed a quick smile and a kindness and caring that shone in his eyes.

Two extremes, and their combination was something she was finding very hard to resist, even before he'd so boldly kissed her in the med bay.

She expected that James wouldn't take the 'talk' with his commander very well. Not because he'd believe Adam wasn't being fair, or was in the wrong, but because he'd disappointed the leader Abby knew he admired so much, and created a dangerous situation for those he cared about.

He was, in her humble estimation, a man determined to do what was right, but who wasn't experienced enough yet as a leader to realize his enthusiasm for the fight could still get the better of his sense. It was a hard lesson to learn, one only mastered through trial and error.

This was something she was very familiar with. She knew that the skill of battle came before the warrior gained the perspective needed to apply it correctly. She also knew learning that perspective was a wretched lesson.

It had taken her years of training to learn how to read her opponents, and that skill was something her father had demanded she perform without failure. One needed to understand what one's foe would do next; that was a critical component not only of surviving the fight, but of winning the battle as well. Would he swing high? Would he lunge?

Reading the enemy was vital.

Once she'd mastered this – many dozens of bruises and humiliating defeats later – her father had pushed her even further. He'd required that she and Fergus apply this learned sense of timing not only to themselves but to the men and women they may someday lead into battle: 'Don't just know what your own opponent will do; know what his _army_ will do as well'.

The elevator slowed and the doors opened, allowing her to step out into the massive bay. Her eyes immediately went to Lieutenant Cortez's station, which unsurprisingly was still empty, but as she moved into the main part of the bay, she didn't see James, either.

Wandering over to his work station, she frowned, thrown slightly that he wasn't where she'd hoped to find him. She looked at the workbench, stepping close and fingering a few of the complicated looking tools as she glanced around his work area. Her eyes were drawn to a small picture of James and an older man of similar looks tucked away on his desktop. She reached for it, smiling at the goofy grins shared by both men.

"Having fun, were you?" she whispered under her breath before putting the picture back in its place. She heard a grunt and looked up, not certain where the sound had come from. "Hello? James?"

There was a clatter of metal and she moved past the bench, spying a corridor in the stacked cartons, which she followed. "Hello?" she called again as she followed the path.

"Yeah! Back here!" answered James's familiar voice.

She reached the end of the carton maze and discovered James at its end, surrounded by what appeared to be a makeshift gym. "Hello," she said softly, a smile on her lips. She gestured around her. "This is rather cozy."

He didn't return her smile but nodded, the teasing light she'd grown to expect in his eyes not there. "Yeah. I'm not a big fan of working out with a crowd," he explained evenly. "You're up early," he finished, bending to pick up a dumbbell.

"You're right, I am," she answered, moving closer. "Though not any earlier than you."

"Is there something I can do for you?"

She paused, the tone of his question lacking its usual warmth. She decided to be direct. "No, not really. I just wanted to see you."

He grunted, counting off his reps under his breath, curling his arm rapidly.

"What does that one do for you?" she asked, pointing to the weight in his hand. "Is it hard? To do those?"

He finished his exercises and stood, replacing the weight in a rack. "Yeah, it is."

"Care to show me?"

He walked to her, an eyebrow arched. "Show you? Why?"

"Well, I haven't trained in ages, I wouldn't want to lose my strength," she replied with a shrug. "Besides, one never knows when a dragon might pop in."

He snorted, fighting a smile as he shook his head. "Abby, why are you here?" he asked slowly, finally holding her gaze.

"Because I want to be," she said sincerely, heartened that he'd finally begun to smile. "Now, are you going to show me how to do that exercise or not?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Yeah, I'll show you. Come on."

~o~O~o~

Liara was also up early, and had barely showered and dressed before Glyph was at her side, reeling off a long list of information the Broker terminal had received overnight.

Largely ignoring the drone, she sat at the terminal and began prioritizing her tasks for the day, when she noticed a winking light on her private terminal, situated to her right. "That's the search I left running overnight," she mumbled to herself.

"Yes, Dr. T'Soni," said Glyph, hovering close to her face. "The search has yielded seven positive matches."

"Seven?" she exclaimed, quickly standing and moving to the other terminal before switching it on. "What's the margin of error on the results?" she asked as she took a seat.

"Unknown, Dr. T'Soni. The accuracy of Lady Cousland's data is difficult to determine."

She nodded and looked at the screen thoughtfully. "Thank you, Glyph. Please continue to monitor the Broker terminal."

"At once." The drone drifted away from her and, as soon as the terminal booted up, Liara brought up the images her search had produced, along with Abby's corresponding drawings. She spent several minutes studying the search results before re-checking, not trusting her eyes.

"By the Goddess," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the first image. "I think we've found something."

She immediately stood up, ready to activate her omni-tool, when she remembered the early hour and decided that news like this would be better delivered in person.

"EDI, is Abby awake yet?"

"Affirmative."

Liara started walking quickly to the exit of her office. "Glyph, I'll be in Abby's quarters," she began before EDI spoke again.

"For your information, Liara, Abby is not in the Port Observation Lounge at the present time."

Liara halted at the door. "Where is she?"

"The shuttle bay."

"Is she with anyone?"

"She is conversing with Lieutenant Vega."

"Oh, I see." Liara walked back into her office, a hand over her mouth as she pondered whether she should interrupt them.

"Would it be helpful if I were to inform you when Abby vacates the shuttle bay?"

Liara sighed in relief. "That would be very helpful, EDI. In fact, would you ask her to come to my office?"

"Of course."

"Thank you," replied Liara, switching her private terminal off for the time being.

~o~O~o~

James directed Abby to recline on his weight bench and he stood over her, adjusting the position of her shoulders.

"Okay, don't move," he ordered, moving to his weights. He chose a small set and returned to her. "All right, now bend your elbows back toward the floor, just like I did. Then push straight up, but not too fast, got it?"

"Yes."

"All right, start with ten and then rest. Go."

She began the exercise as he'd directed, quietly counting with him. He leaned over her, gently touching her right elbow, adjusting her position, but otherwise didn't speak until she'd finished.

"Ten. Weights down, rest," he said, moving back to her. "That was pretty good."

"That was pretty _easy_ ," she argued, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. "I'm not a wimp, you know. Why are you taking it easy on me?"

He grinned. "'Cause you're a _girl_ ," he teased.

She sat up from the bench and crossed her arms. "You're ridiculous!" she laughed. "Come on, you aren't going to hurt me. I'm made of stern stuff, you know."

He chuckled, turning back to his weights. "That, I know," he replied, picking a larger weight. "So, how'd you train in Ferelden? I mean, here, we've got combat simulators, training squads, schools and stuff. How'd you learn to fight?" He held out the weight to her and she took it. "Just curl your arm like this," he instructed, watching her follow his directions. "Good."

"My father's captain of the guard gave my brother and me a broad education in weaponry and drilled us in various techniques. Once we'd shown a proficiency in a certain area, he selected the proper instructors in those skill sets and we trained in earnest."

"How old were you when that started? Like thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Six," she replied, continuing her exercises.

"Six?" he repeated, his eyebrows up in surprise. "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"No," she giggled, shaking her head. "Six is a very normal age to begin such training."

"Okay, then tell me what exactly they trained you in," he prodded. "Switch arms now," he directed, gesturing to the weight.

She did as he bid. "Fergus learned basic sword and shield, but eventually proved to be adept with weapons such as a maul or war axe. I was _awful_ with a shield, but I did very well with a weapon in each hand, so I learned to fight with both, one blade complementing the other. I'm also quite good with a bow."

"Two swords? Seriously? At six?"

"Yes, at six. Though I think I was eight or nine when I began training in two-handed techniques. Why are you so shocked by the age?"

"'Cause you were a kid! You shoulda been running around outside, you know? Pigtails and stuff."

She arched an eyebrow and stopped her exercise. "Pigtails?"

He grinned. "Sure. I bet you were pretty cute, too."

"Perhaps," she replied with a small smile. "Six is a very good age to start training. I was in line to inherit my father's title, at least, I was until Fergus married and had a child of his own. How could I have possibly led the people of Highever if I didn't know how to defend them?"

"I guess you've got a point," he admitted.

"Ferelden had been occupied for generations by a neighboring country," she continued. "My father and mother were part of the rebellion that freed us from it. War was a constant during their youth and obviously it proved a part of mine as well."

"So that's why you learned it all, huh? I guess that wound up being a good thing, considering you ended up saving everyone from those darkspawn."

She finished her reps and nodded, offering him back his weight. "Yes, I suppose it did."

He twisted the weight in his hand before sighing and moving to replace it in its stand. "Guess that's where you learned how to lead, too? That must have been helpful, having your dad be in charge of such a big place, so many people?"

"It helped," she agreed softly, watching him carefully. "I don't know that it made me any better at it. Leadership is something that's forged, something that's shaped through experience and error."

His back was to her, his eyes still on the equipment, but she saw his shoulders droop. "Seems like I've got the error part down pat," he said solemnly. "I screwed up big time the other day. I got too caught up in things and lost sight of the big picture."

"You're hardly the first," she replied. "I was guilty of that a few times myself."

"Yeah, but I'm guessing your mess ups didn't nearly get you or your commander killed."

She sighed, her eyes on his back. "My father was a genius at, well, everything, really," she began, sitting down on the weight bench. "He was a warrior of bravery and skill, an amazing diplomat – he could defuse almost every single situation he ever had to deal with. He was friend to two kings and at one point, the nobility of Ferelden even tried to make him one. He was aware of every single thing that went on in Highever, knew every family and could tell you how many heads of cattle were on our lands and how many bushels of grain we'd yield."

She paused as James slowly moved to face her, watching as he crossed his arms.

"Sounds like a good guy."

"He was. My mother was beautiful, kind, smart and could wield a sword like any man. My older brother was dashing and followed perfectly in my father's footsteps. I assure you, they were a _very_ tough act to follow."

"I can understand that."

"I thought you might," she replied kindly. "Anyway, in the span of a few hours my entire family was gone. There I was, absolutely numb from the pain of it and the next thing I knew, I was expected to end the Blight, the single greatest threat to Thedas."

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine how you got through that."

She shrugged lightly but he saw a heart-rending pain in her eyes as she moved to stand next to him.

"My point, James, is that despite having amazing examples before me, I had no bloody clue how to lead. I'd never been tested; I'd only ever had to give a few orders to my father's men. I didn't understand how to use people or their skills in fray, I had no idea how to rally or manage everyone. I made a complete mess of it; nearly the entire group took issue with me over something at some point."

"How'd you get through it? How'd you get better at it?"

"It took some time, but I finally learned to stop letting my heart get in my way when I was in battle."

"That's hard to do."

"It is, perhaps the hardest thing, actually. But I think it was the key," she said with a small shrug. "I learned to leave my fears, excitement, anger, _everything_ , at camp. Then I could see what needed to be done, and not just for myself, but for those who were counting on me. I wasn't Abby – I was Warden Cousland, commander and leader against the Blight."

He studied her for a moment. "That helped?"

"It did. It was hard to learn to do, to leave _Abby_ behind, but it made it easier. _Warden Cousland_ could do what she had to and things got better," she explained, putting her hand on his forearm. "It gets easier, James. You learn from those kinds of things and Commander Shepard is a good mentor. Don't get lost in what happened. Take it for what it is and do _better_."

He sighed, looking down at her hand, which she hadn't moved. He shifted, catching it in his own and toying with her slender fingers, pleased that she didn't pull away. "You're right. I will."

"Good."

He smiled softly, her hand seeming to tingle in his. "So, that ah, that Warden Cousland sounds like a badass to me."

She grinned, squeezing his hand. "I expect Lieutenant Vega is as well."

"Maybe I should take _him_ along on missions and leave ol' James here for a while," he said. "He's kind of a screw-up."

She leaned close, her free hand catching his other. "I'm rather fond of him," she confessed softly.

He gently pulled her to him, so she was resting against him, as his heart skipped inside his chest. "Huh, really? Uh, why's that?"

"He's kind, he looks after me and he makes me feel safe. Plus, he's handsome and I can beat him at cards."

He blushed, looking aside as he held back a smile. "Handsome? Nah, he's covered in scars and tattoos."

"I like them," she whispered. "In fact, I like a lot about _James_."

His arms wound around her and she raised herself on her tiptoes, her eyes locked with his. "My turn," she breathed, kissing him lightly before stepping back. His arms dropped away from her waist and he looked dazed. "Thanks for the lesson," she said quietly before hurrying away.

He watched her go, his fingers on his lips, a grin spreading slowly across his face.

She'd given him a lot to think about, not just about how he could learn from his mistakes, but about _her_. "Thanks yourself," he replied as he ran a hand over his short hair.

Moving around his workout space, he cleaned up and locked the weights securely into place. Her advice was playing over and over in his mind and he realized she was right: he needed to learn to separate his emotions from his missions or he'd keep making dangerous choices.

The more he considered that, the more certain he was of what he needed to do.

He returned to his work bench and turned on his desktop, noticing the time. The day shift would be starting in a few more minutes and it was time to talk to both Shepard and Cortez. He needed to clear the air and make sure his commander knew James was taking what happened on Cyone seriously.

It was time to man up.


End file.
